Claustrophobia

Everything is different now.
But everything is similar.

You'll always be the one I love
just because I can't break the habit of touching you.

The sole reason I ever kiss you anymore is because it's the only time I can close my eyes and not feel anything at all.

Love has vanished, leaving a hungry need
for apathy
gyrating in its place.

This is my escape from the melodramatic necessity to amplify the mundane and monotonous for the sake of suburban entertainment.

I use you for tremulous security,
insecurity,
in that you're a step-by-step process i can perform in my sleep.

hold comfort kiss hips
arms flesh warmth
shoulders cold questions fears
paranoia?
space apologies
grasp frantic.
smother.
and repeat.

I damn it all to hell with your lips as my lazy afternoon.

It hasn't always been like this,
I used to be devoid of fears.
Now I get claustrophobic when you're too close.

You would give anything for me.
You'd make the sun rise at 2 am with me in your arms
if I asked you to.

I just want to push you away
and feel the emptiness of early morning.

run away flee hide and rock gently back and forth,
I need to be my own comfort.

Love no longer has anything to do with us,
we're just holding on for dear life.
But you can't save me.
But I don't want to leave you.
But I do.

Everything is different now.
But everything is similar.