Termites and Stars

The hand with the crooked end struck a second,
the bell dinged and my heart leapt up like a falcon.
I peered through the crack in the bleeding wall,
seeing his face moody as hell and spurning all.

My eyes sealed shut and I’m transported back,
to the end of fantasy and beginnings without any imaginative lack.
He’s really the boy from my story,
the one I painted a dream for and started appearing in my tragedy.

I’m telling myself how insane all this must sound,
but when he’s making me laugh, I let him pass through all restricted grounds.
He’s pledged his soul to the stars,
worshipping eternity and caramel candy bars.

All the nomadic decay of my twisted life,
are remoulded lovingly by his company, Anti-Strife.
He’s cleared my mind of word-eating termites,
harnessing the energy of blue North Star to create dynamite.

All my friends hated him,
but he’s taught me not to live life on such a whim.
My randomness generator being at work with full force;
he yanked me back to reality, and set me back on the right course.

I open my eyes; I’m still standing behind the wall.
I reach out a hand and imagine myself in that hall,
standing next to him, breathing in his essence,
believing that all this isn’t just some nonsense.

She comes running down from behind him,
I watch their identical smiles brighten like a diamond gleam.
She’s moving closer to him, her pretty face,
animated and perfect, his playful grin, pulling us apart through infinite space.

I wonder why there are two girls
alive in his world like insane kaleidoscopic swirls.
Both different as gentle heaven and cruel hell,
I suppose this is where I should exit, to ensure this story ends well.

May he has exterminated the termites of my mind,
for real, I can't fight this fantasy disease without a boy I’d call mine.
I’m fading into the murky space where stars inhabit,
telling his dream goodbye, and putting my heart up as an art exhibit.