It has been a long time since we last spoke,
Even awful things –
Even in general directions
You blink, I stare.
Still & loud.
A cloud, it lingers and it’s not
Polite at all.
And for some reason this cloud dictates my
Inaction and thwarts all else,
Here keeping mine own – me. But, mass
That’d be added came not from a
Piece or part of self – instead; things
You said, asked and begged.
The person you are cannot cut too straight
In fact, it is pattern you rip.
No cutting required.
Lies.. not to my ears but, instead,
For your own protection, out of that
Same, niggling pattern.
Just an observation.