Branded

You remember my number solely when your other acquaintances forget yours so you can divulge into details about your day.

Yet, before conversation can salivate through the gap in my teeth as information pertaining to another life files itself away in my thoughts, my tongue shrivels up at the sudden dial tone signaling how you deemed that the broken cable line contains nothing left to say.

Appears you would rather forge claims stating how I require space instead of restoring the dynamic of comradery present prior to you acting upon your own feelings while suppressing mine, ignoring how uncomfortable hesitations on the telephone could result in our friendship choosing to stay over time.

Guess I must wait until you need another soul to project upon as then you will obtain another purpose for me.

If one caresses a golden lamp, myths cry that a magical gust of smoke will erupt from the stout of the decorative restraints offering three distinct pleas of the heart and unfortunately each of my desires would orbit around you though a son not my sun but still a focal point dependent on the view.

I wish everything would keep the same.

I wish our conversations would remain.

I wish u never kissed me last May.

And as much as I close my eyes to pray, no number of paranormal powers could cause things to change as you resist the urges to confess your emotions to your own ears and come to terms with where we stand in our revised platonic relationship.

Guess our conversations dwindled down to solely Christmas and your birthday.