no title

[syrensyxx]

multiplied, like a tiny cell
over so many weeks,
months,
years.

I've lost count
since the second I adopted
your presence...

such a small amazement
an extention, reaching out
the sensation of a quickening
in the blood
all because I said
(iloveyoutoo)

so bizarre it was,
to see those words
stitch you so neatly into place
right before I fell asleep.

but eventually
cells mutate,
split,
divide,
and become
seperate entities.

I watched those stitches lose their hold
and felt the blood become heavy
within my veins.
seperated.

There is no quickening,
only a sluggish sort of
consciousness
that craves for something absent
and now unreachable