Paint Splotch Addict

By
This slithering addiction,
Sliding through my veins,
Attacking my breath, my mind,
My heart.
Why must I reply
To everything you do
With smiles, winks,
And pain?
The pain of knowing,
No matter how I pursue you…
No matter what promise you…
No matter when, or where,
Or even why I see you
I might not be doing enough.
I wish my mind were ready,
As of now, it is unable to
Create the poetic candy
It seeks.
Unable to bend syllables
And letters to create
A metaphysical description
Of your beauty.
For 13 nights I have stared,
Making shapes in paint splotches,
Splashed across my wall
And each time,
I see your face,
Smiling back.





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