Chronic

And its funny the way you work,

you pretend to know me better than I know myself.

And you say that it hurts sometimes,

but I know it could be worse.

You lightly caress my arm,

tell me it will all be better soon.

I am always confused,

are you are just lying to heal me now?

Run away,

the chronic pain always returns.

Match Point.

You serenade me with small talk.

The in's and out's of your life through miniscule repetitive phrases.

start.

You are inundated with this ongoing cycle.

It's infinitive process intrigues you.

go on.

My soul, stirred with your temptation, drifts back.

It's just a seductive set to you.

match point.

Your words, strong and unyielding, set a trap.

you have won.

They hold me helpless all over again.

Naive.

UNEDITED thoughts, will probably change completely before submission. Let me know what you think.

The way you talk makes me believe,

that only some relationships matter.

Time is just standing still until we meet again.

The way you talk makes me believe,

that I'm the only one.

Everyone else is lost in a distorted reality.

The way you talk makes me believe,

that what we say is real.

Fighting fleeting thoughts of doubt.

The way you talk makes me believe,

that any day now you'll pick me.

They used to tell me patience was a virtue.

The way you act makes me believe,

that all this is a fantasy.

I never believed in virtues, anyway.