seeing you, faintly

is entirely different from

knowing you. lately

i have confronted

your unusual delight in

the dark;

you cause me to spark

unwillingly,  lavishly

you urge me to succumb

to your new breath of dawn.

unmindly, you notice

no qualms, no perusal

not even a scruple

against your wordly demise.

silence was bestowed

but i remain unrequited.

you are, as you said,

"armed to the teeth"

so you asked, "set me free"

even if I forlornly disagree.

though i have might

and thee gives me strength

i failed to scythe

these growing ends,

of dilapidated dreams

of depleted armor.

a tormentor to-

an open scar, an empty wound.

a cure?

not sure.

no balm,

no stand

no other soul pure.

ima- a girl who abhors unfaithfulness-- in all its forms.