excruciating belly pain soaking in the fantasy of you never a delight ruminating how will you do me defences inhibiting relations i said no to a kiss and rejection flew us into a game of intellect screwing over fuzzy love connecting through a narrow space just you, and anxiety firing again and again and again
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it hurts me, implosive energy scattered, never really anything to hold onto between us obsessive psyche until finally clarity meets grace rose-tinted glasses, I threw them all away lies evaporate and i understand — you and I aren’t meant for each other. it was just the high of Paris and now it is time to come down why is this city so cursed for me i ask myself one more time
just you, and anxiety firing again and again and again
This poem pulses with honesty — the anxiety loop, the sharp turn toward clarity, the ache of seeing through the fantasy. The line ‘just you, and anxiety / firing / again and again’ cuts deep. It’s brave and beautifully unfiltered.
