Untitled

I see you across from me
and I wish that distance would span
to the furthest reaches of time
because then,
and only then
could I run far enough to keep sane

There's a disservice of self
that takes place
when I stand in your presence
willing myself
and killing myself
with the idea that hell is nigh

Undo me, undermine me, time me
and cut me up sublimely
because then I could turn
and possibly run
I really should run
why do I feel tethered to this spot?

Slow burn of an age
this I hope, the turning of the page
would dissolve the endless night
and yet we are unwise
again, the refrain "unwise"
as we play in this brimstone's rain