on a stage built for another day,
psycho’s dance like marionettes –
the only difference between them,
and sanity,
lies in the hands of the one holding the strings…

you speak to me –
words fragile as eggshells –
divert my attention,
momentarily,
from the lunatics i currently entertain.
and for a moment –
i am free!

why is it –
my friend –
you cannot let the anchor hold?
exciting – you are.
outbursts more intense than December lightening.
intensity – rivaled only by the sun.
but you choose,
to refrain.
drawn up deeper inside yourself than darkness to night,
you leave me alone to drift in your enigmatic currents.
cast-away,
mere ripples of memories in search of a shore.