Conceit.

Long glistening towering

over a past that is now lived, 

Understood, disappointed.

 

The last time we spoke 

you told me of the 

only two lessons 

Your father ever taught you

“Time destroys everything.”

And 

“The postman always rings twice”.

 

Now, every time I smell 

a lilac incense burning 

or when I come across 

A postman about to ring a bell 

or I am about to find 

a flaw in your iris

it makes my uvula hurt.

 

(Brief pause.)

 

Last Tuesday, 

you read me the words

to the worst 

Love poem you 

Have ever read.

and I just sat there 

Gnawing at the

Inadequacy of love. 

The myst of infatuation,

Around me

being humiliated by unkept promises

The helplessness of desire unrealised.

 

Five years on,

Five years seem too short to be so sure

but too long to wait.

Five years on,

you still clasp so hard onto

your father's ensnaring loneliness

The same loneliness 

you are dying off 

Constantly around you and 

Will be with you in your grave

 

And when I ask you about it,

you tell me 

“We do not heal 

we just become more 

and more reliant

on antidepressants

on people 

on being miserable

and sooner or later

we turn on ourselves”.

 

but you know, 

We are living through 

Cracked screens 

And as long as you 

Forget everything,

The past will forever 

be unremarkable.
This is the only way 

Our present will

Continue forever.

Only then, 

Can no sadness

Pry me away from you.

 

Just the same,

You have never found 

Any elevation, in my words

Instead, I keep asking the God

of God bereft people

To provide you with 

Two-tenths of a second of respite 

a singular moment in time 

Stretched out for eternity.  

 

(While I die happily in your ruins.)

 

I can not plan out a future 

I do not care about

I have spent far too many

Hours looking at 

an obsidian mirror, too 

Opaque to reflect anything

To figure out why

Long months that turn grey 

For no conceivable reason.

 

Being wafted around 

Like the Sputnik 

And Misguided by M19, 

The transistor radio 

Blasting death cab 

I missed all three exists, 

That could have led me to you. 

 

Now, even if I promise you the world

or how I would be with you till the end of time

We will still be nothing more than friends.