I am disappointed in myself for my glutton-gaze.
She is a beautiful child who deals with life as children do:
all needs and wants.
I don’t know where her honesty sits…
behind all the toys and triumphs.
I see her strip tease and her stunning ego and it’s true,
I am agape,
like an ape,
drooling too.
But I should know better.
I know better.
She dangles the carrot and gets some kind of fix,
then darts back to the drama that -
balloons up her ego (it’s never flat).
And I am letting her dance around me.
She is a beautiful child.
She has passed me around;
her pass-the-parcel girl.
Unwrap me and,
layer by layer,
judge.
You’ve not got a clue who I am.
You’ve not got a clue
what my glue is.
The stuff that holds me together.
Your whispy buzz and twenty-two year old hue
keep you
occupied.
And they will.
Until they dissolve and you’re left with
dust and shadows.
And a reputation.
They will flock to you
but they’ll have nothing of interest.
All those empty air girls will be yours.
So, if this is goodbye,
then goodbye.
love.
disappointment!