I Didn’t Want to Believe It: A Transformational Journey

I’m sitting alone at the cosmic stump,
Sipping my soul, and I’m vodka drunk.
Thinking of goals I’ve not yet done,
Fission control, visit me in my head.
Cataclysmic logarithms, picture dreams that are dead.
Bickering silence, word by word, I fell into your haiku,
Only heard what you wanted when I told you I love you.
Nervous, respond. I fell into the lust pool,
Mouth of sin, out of breath,
A spell was cast on my lungs too.
She promised me passion, she promised me endless,
A synonym for forever. All I got was a toxic expansion.
Mantras to mansion, so deceptive it hurt,
Quoted my tantrums, like an excerpt from a book.
Don’t mention the looks. I wonder how you mention me now?
Sat on the couch, watching Netflix. Forget heaven and clouds,
Came from the kitchen with a spoon full of sauce that you fed into my mouth.
Cilantro, “Does the chicken francaise taste good, my love?”
Now I find spooning so distasteful. It sucks.
Double entendre tornado, a marksman from the start,
Haloed your heart, rainbow, and darts at the bar,
Volcano and smog, now I counted a hundred horseshoes,
Barely put into words how much I adore you.
So scared, and it hurts, I’ve come to assortments,
From arid. It’s gravid, it varied, of course.
Marriage, like cherries, best pick to engorge,
Eviction of souls, dependent on the glare you reflected.
You sold me religion, with laissez-faire in effect.
I flare up, I gave up on describing this feeling,
Inscribed when I speak, shine on the shrine I requested,
Dried my lips on your teeth, a psychic connection,
Read the Braille on my tongue without trying to French kiss.
Assignment: Accepted. Binary in sign language,
With tension so hectic, you’d barely bury the knife hatchet.
Fury. Attachment. To the universe that emblazoned,
The jury and gavel, as well as the executioner faceless.
Fell into Jupiter’s orbit, and you didn’t notice,
Consumed in your work. My mutation was forced.
I knew it, of course, I ballooned and transmogrified,
With evolutionary pose, soon to be broken, I
Cocooned. I was born, alas, a new metamorphosis. Rise,
Using the moon’s pull as a force, so isotopic,
The butterfly, psychotropic, new skull and a heart.