Proximity

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Don’t come too close.

I see my intentions finding solace over your head.
I hear your mind sitting comfortably on the cold lap of misunderstanding
I feel your defences weakening your depth.

Don’t allow my indifference to slap you.

Not hard, but enough to blind you from the disappointment that has made my eyebrows seek heavens.
Upset unleavened but still present.
You see my mind painted you in colours that didn’t exist.
I imagined lines finer than the smallest brush tip.
So please understand that your cracks are mocking me
Individually.
Unplanned splats of reality scatter my minds unprovoked brush strokes.

It’s not your fault.
Just don’t come too close.

I see your mind,
I smell your intention.
I feel the words your mind hides behind.
I hear your chest pound when your mouth slips up and allows a piece of your heart to escape and create homes in my bones.

My mind made this picture.
More of a Picasso than an Okafor.
I placed and arranged your imperfections perfectly on my canvas.
Brush strokes of blacks and blues
Disrespectfully protruding through this white canvas.

Clashing.
Fighting.
Perfect.

So don’t come too close.

Because you’re placing dead orchids on the thorns of a living rose.

I hear your heart speaking louder than your empty words do.

So don’t come too close.
Don’t let my indifference slap you.

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