Abra Kadabra

What are these words
we throw around?
What do we want
their purpose to be?
I sit at my desk
and write
I’m taking a vactation in
my head
while you’re vactationing
in your world
out of your head.
Mine is actually
no vacation
it’s a prison
toxic to my brain, forced
to do my inventories and
vomit out old resentments
that I tried so hard
to suppress and make
disappear forever.
Abra Kadabra
and they’re summoned
back to the surface.

Sometimes you look at
me different.
You talk to me different.
Like i’m not the one
you love.
Sometimes I pray to God
that your purpose of
some of the words you use
are solely
to cause pain.
With no truth involved.
Either way,
they bring jolts
to my chest,
clouds of fire
in my brain.
But to think of you
actually leaving
causes all
breath to cease
as well as
the blood flow
in my veins.
Everything stops,
including Time
as I gaze into
your dark eyes.
you stay still
but the rest of the world
collapses all around you.
Sometimes my greedy
and selfish mind
yearns to make
your heart feel
the same offence
that took control
of mine.

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