A Feeble Minds Fabrication

She thumps me on the shoulder.

In hopes I will look at her, standing beside me,

And she says in sweet adorable tone,

“Of all the people in this life,

Not one of them like me,”

I glance, she’s grinning widely,

Only her eyes illustrating fear.

I whisper “don’t think about it.”

I pretend not to hear what she has to say next.

Her skin smells of sweetly scented sex,

As we intertwine our necks,  

We hold each other,

One against the frost

We swing gently

Back… and forth

 Each others aid, each of us fearing loss.

 I can sense her quivering synchronizing with my shivering.

Abruptly she pulls away, and everything’s cold,

I feel repulsed by the rift, the sudden wafting hole,

The devastating isolation,

I open my eyes and come to the realization

She is gone…

A feeble minds fabrication,

Brought to me through song

Every time I think I’ve found a way out

I’m proven hideously wrong.

I just want there to be someone,

Someone, Somewhere

Anyone, anywhere.

Who doesn’t make me feel this way.

Forgotten.

Undeserving.

Alone.