Can any hell be more real than this?
Longing for something you can never have
The wind screams contempt for location,
associations dictated by fate.
Bound.
Restrained.
Wrapped up in the world
of my wicked friend.
My innocence is bleeding through
Boyish, childhood amazement
Beaming in on your soulful lucid insanity.
Northeastern lament
praying for a cleansing rain
to wash away this emptiness
A good answer you say?
I’ve always been good at tests
and testing my will you are.
