.

Sometimes I feel like a MS word file.
stretched taut to the sides of the page.
fully justified
of every breath I take.
I am predictable.
Written.
My full stops, questions are all in check.
I am margined.
My personal bubble
1.5 inch
The white sides roll around me like a shroud.

.

When i miss you
i sing
bring
memories into my
mind
find
sublime
joy at things
we used to do.

.

I can already see the story spelt out
across the sky.
I'm my own oracle.
I sense disaster as it comes.
sense Disintegration
of a bond. a habit. a feeling.
Knowing you care. Knowing you're there.

.

.......................

it's like we're both on
parallel highways
suspended, by parallel
strings high above
the world.
Our realities don't
intersect.
We stay rigid in our place.
Twist and turn to cater to
life's
everyday monotony.

But for the brief moment
our breaths
overlap
I am alive.

Before reality pulls, before
we return to the gray, the
dull, the here and now
the never will be.

................

.

i want to see your hands with
my fingertips.
trace out
your palms like a
fragile, torn
map.
i want to
tiptoe across your
intricate woven paths and
find an
eternal perdition
in your
fist.