Dear God. Not Only Am

Although, Pretending Not To Notice Is Almost Worse Than Noticing.

I Want Her To Melt Into Me, Like Butter On Toast. I Want To Absorb Her And Walk Around For The Rest Of My Days With Her Encased In My Skin. I Want.

I Roll Onto My Side And Stare Out The Venetian Blinds At The Blue Sky Beyond. After A Few Minutes I'm Lulled Into A Sort Of Peace. The Sky, The Sky--same As It Always Was.

Being The Survivor Stinks.

Why The Hell Shouldn't I Run Away With The Circus?