The pain pushes out a pulsating beat, incapacitating me. I sit, getting lost in this hopeless little screen. Nothing to do but procrastination, delaying, with no real reason for it. My mind turns to a default image of you. I can't explain it. I write endless phrases, a metaphysical conceit I'm not even sure of myself. Unfullfilled dreams, the wish of carpe diem but there's a chain of trepidation around my ankle. I'm accustomed to a different love, a different meaning, joining, dialogue. I'm just another tourist in your bed, looking at the view. I suppose I write to try and decipher it. Telling you in phrases thick with distractions and song, ideas I understand only fractions of. I want to talk to you. But the words find no escape, the pathway's broken from mind to lip, spirit to finger tip. I'm in tumultuous indecision, a feeling of inadequacy. If I push too much my inner darkness upon you, searching for a deeper connection, I'm afraid I'll get a response of distance growing. I'm left longing for your touch but I'm too afraid to touch you. An etched image of perfection and simplicity, and here I lie, broken. Ambiguous desires I read from your eyes, a disdainful demureness. Half of me wants you to find these stupid words. The adept side tells me to hide them away. A skill I've learnt well. Words of impulse find scorn and regret when change is innevitable.
Don't give up. I'm only starting to see the gravity of your situation. the extent of your damnation. In short I don't blame you for your frivolous disposition. I blame myself for not being enough to change it. That came out wrong. I can't, nor do I want to, change you. I just wish I was insentive enough to make you wish to change. Or maybe change is non-existant. I want you to grow. You're playing a static and stagnant role whilst I am flourishing and thriving. I know I'm not the same as I was when we were first in love, but the change is amplified relative your inert stance. I've always cared about you, but that too has been altered by the hand of circumstance. I've known countless feelings for you, attachment, love, lust, caring, anguish, concern. I've always felt something for you. Now it's stronger than ever before. No more silly juvenile notions of "love". I care for you like a sister, a mother, a lover, a friend. You say you don...
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