Landing On A Cushion

Sweet angelic visions of her remind him of thievery,
Stealing his eye sight away from the sun’s blockade of a glare to enter his twilight of lost possessions…
She,
The coin of his mere life,
Obverse to his skin,
Mind,
Condense soul,
Whispers in his ignorant ears,
“Come back home,
I need you…”

No matter how enticing it sounds, He smiles and shrugs it off with loneliness,
Without giving loneliness a breath of existence…
But when the sun hides behind the sky’s illuminate stars taking its barrier with it,
He fears that she sees him as a tyrannical rogue for reasons he can’t elaborate on,
Abusive in regards to sending her love notes telepathically…
Her on the receiving end only hearing dishonesty and coercive phrases like “I love you” being thrashed upon her delicate chest…

“Where are you?”,
“I need you,”
“But why did you…”

He hears her say…
He responds saying,

“But why did I what?”
Forever cauterized on to that question leading him astray from the perplexing crime he never committed,
Puzzled and scattered from the answer he’s looking for that doesn’t exist…

How can he live…

With flashbacks of him letting her hands slip,
Her feet falling off a melting ice berg screaming for her savior…
He,
Panicking because he knows she’ll be better off landing on a cushion…

How can he live…

Maybe by hearing her soothing voice every single day,
Every single afternoon,
Every single night…

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