I am as far away as one can get from seabreeze and sun in between greencliff and saltwater and cycling sound, regular static but brushed by a flag of soft curls

I am so long from brief downtime moments of contented overwatching of the familial you only know, then

Perhaps I've even permanently shunned myself from smelling comfort in a study haven, occasionally pinning silly smiles to friend or lover

Certainly, I am now to be given up on and delegatorly relegated to Strangest Smuck of Locale

As to the girls, I am either blowing or falling away from any expectation of reciprocity, perhaps its only remarkable because of the contact my body is detecting deficit of with the mess of Her-related sensory input my brain continues to withdraw from without healing, like a standing retreat

or defiant creed that I can still convince most of us of enough that they fall in love with me and realize that It is for Her and are broken by it to varying degrees while I watch and know that I would be disgusted wth myself utterly, if I could feel anything

But when I do, it is GAPING wide for some reason always dramatized as a vacant bar graph in my mind

#poetry