Meum Scorpius

It has been quite a while
We both know how this goes.
Lives and worlds apart, so long;
and still my same old woes.

I've changed. I've grown.
I've yelled and screamed and held my tongue.
Through stagnant, stale, and bitter lies;
I have survived, and hopeful eyes have kept me young.

Still I find myself entangled in the same old web I weave.
Silent moments too far and few of glances, smirks, and smiles;
have left me yearning, pining, crying, trying!
For something unworthy my while.

Always and forever does my curiosity best me.
A single candle's flame draws me from the cold,
and as I reach for the warmth,
my touch is burned and seared: the fire has it's hold.

The flame of the scorpion.
Eyes bright, enticing, warm.
I thought that I could weather him,
I wasn't ready for this storm.

What a fool was to think
that I could resist his pincher's sting.
As his poison reached my heart
I realized the most dreadful part:
he doesn't know a thing.

Unaware of his fatal bite
not knowing what he has done,
my scorpion had left me parched and dying
in a dried out dessert, I am baking in this sun!

In complete and utter honesty,
if I am truthful with myself,
I have wondered this barren dessert with a canteen upon my hip.
I've had water this entire time.
Yet I never took a sip.

I suppose I wanted to see how long that I could last
without a drop of water.
with out fail my scorpion has proved to me
I only got hotter and hotter.

I couldn't take his poison sting!
I was shaking, sweaty, heavy with fever.
When my scorpion was around,
there just wasn't any reliever.

I couldn't stand is any longer.
I had to get away.
My scorpion's enticing poison was only getting stronger
I wouldn't survive another day.

I left. No more a desert wonderer.
I've moved ocean side;
water is everywhere.
A river strong and flowing deep
had kept me rooted here.

The distance has helped relieve some heat,
at least here I can recover.
But the fire of my scorpion's burn
is a spell I will always be under.

I'm doing well. I am growing strong,
I've even learned to swim.
But when the summer sun dries out the land
I tend to think of him.

No matter how the time will change both him or I,
his poison flows through my veins and call in such a way,
that my heart will always respond with:
"Semper amavi meum scorpius Mauritius"
until my dying day.