Escape
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at even the thought of giving it voice (what i feel,

or felt (for fifteen fortnights - forever -

have passed since you were mine) i should say --

i should sing, i should shout, i should cry, i should laugh, i should

bring me to task for forgetting the past)

i’m frozen in headlights and melting from heat

(internal combustion - i can’t stop the blushin’
-

but i’ve let myself go for far too long

without feeling, or thinking, or wishing, or breathing

in hope of who knows what

that you alone can give me.
-

so this is the dam bursting at last,

not with force, after so many weeks,

but fading away, letting through

a trickle here, a shout in the dark,

a stab in the heart, mended

too slow (to be ignored)

and finally what’s left (behind

door number 3)

is anything but right (sleep and misery)
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and i’m hoping in time that my memory won’t fade

and i’ll keep on believing you wait for the day

when not closer are even our hearts than our shapes

(for that’s why you told me you wanted escape)