He used to think he had it all.
Until the rise within the fall became
too ultimate for one to just contain.
'Twas then his choices came to be
the bane of his existence.

And flesh, his flesh, the base
of his reality, cried out to just be
touched again, by her. Twisting,
there inside of him. As if a snake
came to the point of over-wound,
within his very flesh.

Particular, the modes and means
he chose to keep on keeping on.
Insufferable, the codes and schemes
of those he chose to spend it all upon.
He did not know just when the pain began.
Only that, as time went on, he couldn't
find a way to just to just pretend
that he felt nothing much at all.

Clinging to the habits of the past -
even as the future mists insisted they
begin their opening. (So long - oh,
he had waited for so long to find
the love that he had ultimately
left behind.) Half a life and more,
before he finally found her there -
but now the walls he'd built were
closing in on him again.

Was it mere moments, then, since
last they shared a kiss...? Or centuries since
last their love was met within reality...?
He couldn't tell, not anymore.
For reality no longer held him there,
within that world of alter-images
so many chose to base their lives upon.
The two of them had really been just one.

He used to think he had it all.
Until the rise within the fall became
too ultimate for one to just contain.
'Twas then his choices came to be
the bane of his existence. And so he
tried to sleep each night. Pillow wet
with all the tears he'd never dared
to share...

? Michaelette ?