FicWad

Everytime I think of it,
I get sick.
I can't eat.
I can't think.
All that exists is the neauseating fact that
remission
isn't permanent.
It doesn't mean 'cured'.

His ambiguity makes it worse;
is he really feeling
the way he portrays,
as he showers me with flirtacious banter?

His warmth there for the taking,
Everything seems beyond fine.
This is what happy feels like.

But I can't enjoy happiness
when the word starts tunneling it's way back
to the front of my mind.

I want nothing more than
to lean my body up against him,
as his body was made
to protect me---
but the fears keep me on the other side of the couch.
Fears of falling,
fears of death.

For the time being, it's under control.
But for the time being doesn't last.




__________________________________
so i actually wrote this as a way to get out some things...
and decided to post it
not really an mcr thing
but you can read it that way if you want

reviews are appreciated !