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Engraved into what always seems to be my living hell
Engrossed into what they have made my dungeon
Occupied by the blindness of passion
Obscure by the site of daunting love
What can be said to obtain reciprocity
Wonderings of when reciprocality will engage me
There is a lack in returns of solemnly actions and speech
Thither away from the one who needs it most
No stake in her from any form of live
None of her outward-bound compassions full circle around her
Hurt from the wounds of nothings
Haunted by what was always the lingering ghosts from my past
Pain is the picture painted on her heart
Paused to ever give anything anymore, but its not lived up too
Tears come. 
Tears are present.
Crying stays. 
Crying continuously moves in.
Brokenness is my tomb.
Brokenness will be her grave.
Drowning in emotions that loves and are bad
Dark thoughts because of the absences
Men are not past-timed with any part of my brain or heart
Men take sake of the lips that rests whats in between thighs
So,.. truancy of involvements is the flow she receives from wished uponed others
Stuffed and suffocated high caliber attentiveness is hostaged
Alone is her Home
Awol is my Home...