It so stuffy in here,
In this relationship
Where everything seems centered
Around your needs, your dreams.
Your vehicles, your first love,
Substitute intimacy sufficiently,
So I’m second, or wait.
Behind your coloured bottles.
That you use to hide
Your face from the world,
Or to blind your view to it.
Making you short sighted,
If only for the moment
Meet your limited needs.
That makes me third.
My vision unobscured,
By men behind bottles,
Sees dreams, aspires and sighs.
And now I need space.
Cos time pushes me to a corner
Where your needs fill the room.
The smell of liquid threatens to drown,
The smell of Yasmins.
And I need to get out,
before its completely gone.
Before the flickering flame extinguishes,
By rushes of pain and dissatisfaction.
And all that is left is ashes.
I need to therefore get out for a while,
Later I’ll want to come back,
Maybe I’ll realise that I love you after all,
But right now,
I have dreams and aspirations,
And time is running out.
Picture credit: https://karinallergosalto.com