Perfect Confines

It's hard to make sense stranded in these seasons of turmoil with a frenzied heart and always on the verge of tears. I've been unkempt and reckless while separated from ancient friends; I've walked through landmines in laughter never knowing what I'm after. When I saw you last, we were wandering through cities of disproportionate despair searching with a magnifying glass for any reason to care. I've seen nuns bewildered at religious shrines while I was vigilant with votive candles preparing to take a midnight flight for any far-flung compassionate shore. Every dawn, I'm desperate for hopeful daylight friendships to make me feel more reassured that there is something other than a gun or a noose behind the next door. Once upon a time, there were souls in my life who attributed to me the powers of visionary elucidation and vivid imagination. Ah, but now, I only want to rest in the perfect confines of your eyes uninterrupted for days if only this fever and delirium would pass. I've never had a genuine love nor answers to any questions you could ask; there are no guarantees for the satisfaction of your needs; so, in self-preservation, let's make a swift retreat from this existence of unparalleledsorrow.