Disturbed Inquiry

March 4, 2011
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When you eyelids close, is it me you envision?
Or am I just a forgotten decision?
Do I sit on your tongue, like a perched bird?
Or in the back of your mind, like a story unheard?
Is it my face you picture when you let your mind drift?
Do you cross our memories as your heart you sift?
Is it gentle desire, is it latent longing,
That drives you to mask with your stoic wronging?
My relief is drowning in this tangle you made
So please unleash the feelings you bade
So I no longer suffer, waiting for fade
Let me sink, not force me to wade
I beg you to rest in the nest you made.


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