Restless rustles

Rustling under the sheets

Like the restless rustle of leaves at night

My limbs move irritably

One against the other

Manifesting the state of my mind

As memories of you

From yesteryear

And from yesterday

Jarr noisily against each other

Bringing all other thoughts

To a screeching blood curdling halt.

And then,

It all stills.

Stills of you and me

Over and over.

In different places.

Different times.

Different minds.

Slide one after the other.

Like those cheesy shows

Those mundane events gather around.

Caustic as they are,

They seem to me

Such an utter relief

As I break down

Walls of rigmarole

And

Wails of longing

Are let out.

Like eruptions of those dormant magma monsters

Like the proverbial crappy truth that sets you free.

I long for you.

My proverbial crappy truth.

That just doesn't set me free.

I am inevitably chained down.

To conventions. The convenient ones.

Those that you seem to have broken off

In a struggle.

And hiding away, you are,

In your lair

In a universe created by you.

Get your head out

From the opaque clouds it lies in.

And create that galaxy

Down here in the world

Which we creatures struggle with daily

To grasp and live in.

But ignore conveniently.

As we long for bliss.

I long for you.

My bliss.

Shattered. Shredded. Bleeding.

Dried and scabbed permanently.

Come pull it away permanently.

Pull my cowardice away.

Pull my illusions away.

Pull the curtains down, not away.

On this once and for all.

I long for you. To end.

Of me. Of you.

For you. For me.

For us.

I long.