My inability
to understand
the workings of
your mind
is not a fault.
Simply
the way things are.
I’ve rustled the
coals of an exceedingly
extinguished
flame
only to accept
a slow burn.
So I accept
I will
probably
watch you bottom
out into
recession.
An increasingly
menacing
self-destruction
Your tissue
soaking in
leaching toxins
from our
jungle.
I’ll not
lay there
on the floor
with
you.
I’ve bruised
levying
my weight
up against yours
attempting to pluck
you from
that place.
There’s the path
This is your path.
