the golden year.

i had written this
on the back of an envelope
that i had been meaning to send
and i must have been writing
with a brokenhearted pen
because each word i wrote bled heavy
into the papers within.

encompassed by the feeling of solitude
brought about by silent receivers,
microphones held cold
while they listened
from lack of breath
from human speakers.

felt the shifting of plates
in my head
as it formulated
and twirled
the day that i knew
i was no longer yr world.

and i suppose all of the miles
combine and multiply
as moments becomes whiles
and even threads of adoration wear thin
when happiness is prolonged solely by denial.

reality hits hard
when she throws
amicable forms yr way.
and its in the twinges that run through you
to her quivering thighs
where temptations aid sweetly
to morality's decay -
so that when she asks me to stay
i'll know of no other way.

and in exploration
of uncharted territories
i'll be saddened
more than ever before
as it'll be the day that i'll know
you are no longer my world.