physician, search and rescue thyself

You make me feel folded
old
like a pornographic magazine
shoved between an 80’s mattress.

You ghost me
host my saddest thoughts
leave lingering hope
like terminally ill puppies
on my words to you with
r for READ
or s for SORRY, NOPE.

You are specialized.
I don’t believe in specialization.

You withhold words
like the strongest levee
while I flood you
with everything
everyone
every time
that makes me

and you,
drowning
in the REAL of me
A barely standing
bare structure
of a used to be home
cruel Oaks grey
but promising.

We both should have held our breath.
I forgot you walk on water.

 

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