Closing distance

We start late at night
blinded by discomfort
we pick up the pieces
pens scratch ’n screens dent
‘cause we’ve never known
enough ways to clear our minds
darling, you keep adapting
my mishaps into therapy notes
I will die alone on top
of processed lifetimes
and internal wrongdoings
burning candles in an even crowd
pieces that once interlocked
seem recklessly broken
under these lights
we’re still handtied
I’m mad as hell at the mayhem
hold love on your tongue
until we stop giving words
to fire climbing up our lungs
until we fully form
cancel all escape plans
we breathe each other in
with a weird fondness
ripe and cooling passing smiles
look at me – I’m trying
I’m fighting to find confidencE
in closing distance

© Monique (starfish_72)


Gepubliceerd door

Monique's Notebook

Poetry mainly - I play with my creative freedom.

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