At times the whisper creeps, lurks, pounces
it's eerie, distorted sound
that I perceive so incorrectly.
Repulsing.
Distorting.
Inhibiting.
The mind is so distant,
so lost in the trails of perplexity and trepidation
neglected and trapped in the subconscious,
aching, yearning, scrounging,
for the smallest glimpse of time.

Because the mind always races,                                       constantly in motion, the wisps and scattered collection of nerves pounding,

So incessantly.
So perpetually.
To rid it of that thought,
of that isolated, vivid, enticing memory,
of when I met you.
the naivety in my eyes felt so compatible with the corruption in yours.

Lured by the chilling, mechanical yet complex nature of your voice
and most haunting shadow towering over my simplicity and purity.
The grey specks scattered among the sea of azure in your eyes...
unleashed a diminished terror within.
I knew I would seclude myself from the world in its entirety,
in order to provide my amour,
my passion,
my fortitude to your essence.
But your intrepidity was far too cogent for my demureness.

We then became detached,
your presence though is still intertwined with mine
I feel your potent sentiments,
your menacing stare.
Your debauchery brutalized the last remnants of my soul.

And I'm the one left with the repetitive,
obscene,
lamentable surges of mere cognition and putrescent reflection.