HIS LATEST FLAME/FUGITIVE

Feel like a fugitive in my own life, kind of use to it and enjoy it. Filling the gap where your life and love should be. Do you know how fucking alone I am now? That doesn't matter. My views go to ink, captured in my poems. What will you think when you read it?

I know you exist, somewhere. If you didn't, I'd be totally alone.

Like now.

What if you don't exist and I'm wrong in believing that you do exist and you actually yearn to be with me? What if I chose to leave here? My choice. No one can stop me. Someone should save me. But who?

You? An unnamed angel?

My latest flame?

Dark delicious pull of you being too late tugs at me, like gravity at a comet passing a gas giant. A cataclysm. No worries.

Pathways to where?

I had it all before, a caring witch wife, bakery job, car, holiday a year. That was fifteen years ago. Why do I wish I had it now, not then?
Was I young and innocent back then? My life, so back to front.

If you do exist, I promise to wait for you, for a while. And when I'm gone, you'll follow me and we'll be together forever, even though I don't know your name. You wanted me to wait for you forever.

I need you now.

Oh how Goth.

His latest flame dying now....