"Time Between"

"Time Between" 

"Hey Stranger..."
Phrase I've heard
countless times before
but never from you.
Cliché as it is
centered around fabrication...
...the groundless inclination
to feign that you've missed me.
Risky the tactic.
Contemptuous as a habit
so frivolous and fake
for the sake of pretentious planning
as if your understanding would ever
allow you to convince me
that I was missed by you
so I am one of the few
to say

"What do you want?"

"Hey Big Head..."
An untimely phrase that always
seems to come about when you've
finally reached a good place.
Inserted in an unprecedented
fashion where it need not be applied
because this scenario isn't applicable.
It would seem that the
security you procured while
you were here has faded away.
Reluctant your return to which
you thought would still be intact.
But my intuitive senses
sense danger afoot.
Tingling in my nervous system
alerts me to your ulterior motives.
Dare I say but inclined to ask,

"New life, Who's this?"

and who misses interruption?
As time passed,
you rewind past
and conjure empty introduction
as if memory will forsake me.
From "We haven't talked lately"
to "I still love you, baby."
This confused loop is crazy.
I don't even want to know
how far back that flash was
that you still love to flaunt and show.
Time dead as the last cause
and yet you still find more to go
along with your corroded basis.
Deal of pain the rain acidic
washing over your basic ambition.
No transition.
All the way abrupt and forceful.
Lies well in the eyes
still seeking refuge in my torso.
Lips that draw the lines
lubricated by the morsels
collected in memory.
A play on affinity.
As lonesome as trends can be.
Still lost on your intent for me.

Sometimes.. The grass is
greener on the other side.
But you have to patrol the dating
pool and wet it to see if it'll grow.
By choosing to do such, you basically
stated that my soil was barren.
Quite the contrary.
Because, in fact, you
choose not to nurture it.
Peeking over the fence
to see the process
in which my progress
is taking place.
Fret not.
Death comes swiftly
in the night time.
.. or daytime ..
Depending on when you thought
is was a good idea to impede on
what once was ours to share.
"Love don't live here anymore!"
I believe, all things considered, you
figured the imprint you left on me
would put me in a coma like state.
Yet, what remained were sleepless
nights awaiting your untimely return.
Cringe worthy the second, minute, hour
you finally decided to waltz back in.
The archaic terms now in which
you speak are greatly outdated.

Snapshots softly faded in sunlight.
Some might hazard a glance
and become entranced
by the smiles
but enhanced are the wiles
while the truth hangs in the frame.
Where one struggles recalling names,
I remember every moment
I've no way to be absolved of.
Spent those years trying to solve love
like it was the problem
that we make it to be.
Didn't make it with me.
Only naked we see
that nothing makeshift can be
worth all the vagueness made glee
just to give you some excuses
for conversing brief and useless.
Don't brush away intent so ruthless
to act like you want to do this. 

Bye, Stranger.

 
















Written By: Twin Monks (Eric Gumas and Devin Joseph Metz)