It figures that I sit here writing as
I think about you. This is just what
happens now when my mind wanders away
from me. It's never a conscious decision,
this direction of my thoughts. Like you're
a parasite, sinking yourself into the deep
recesses of my brain. Fusing yourself so
tight I can't separate our past and my
present. No chemical can kill it, no
other thought can distract me. It's like
an addiction, this thinking. I feel so
masochistic I'm beginning to wonder if
I actually like the confusion it gives
me. Maybe you've sunk yourself in so
far that confusion is as natural and
right to me as happiness should be.
I'm strangely comfortable in this space
you've saved inside my head. Since
there's certainly no room for you in
my heart, you're content to stay forever
in the forbidden thoughts I keep inside me.
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