Sleeping With Denial

Denial sleeps next to my swollen temple

We share a pillow

I'm never really alone

She's there to remind me of that

Her curves lie against the ones in my mind

I caress her when it's too much to bear in thought

Sometimes feeling her spikes tie knots in my stomach drives it home

I'm entangled in her, Denial

I've undressed her, and let her shackle me

So I continue denying

I continue existing in knots

I continue being shackled by a loud silence, obsessed with her complexion as her sharp edges cut into my serenity...

I'm growing tired of caressing the comforts manifested from figments

Denial is not a person, but she taints your judgment like one

Denial doesn't need permission to share in your deepest regressions

You've set the table, you've bought her dress, you auctioned your peace

She's merely the highest bidder

Denial is not a person, but she'll take from you like one

Your peace is accessory, your heart a platform, your mind sustenance

Denial, denial, denial...a succubus in kind...

One you allowed to feast on fantasy, stripping stanza from poetry, ink from pen, structure from narrative...

And in the end...acceptance was right outside your door...drenched in phases like rain...