i'm trapped in illusion.
your presence lingers but i can't
touchtouchtouch our memories.
i wish i could grasp your insecurities,
digest them as if they were my soul.

i feel vulnerable to everything in
my reaching. ready to crumble as
my fingertips slideslideslip.

this has been an unbearable healing,
but process is only as good, half as good.
deargodnotgoodatall..

the leaves (a)wake to an undenying sadness
that reeks a once pleasurable atmosphere.

i'm sorry if i let you down.