No, your not her, you have a shard of her soul, a reflection. Your manoeuvres have all been deflections.
She would not say the things you say, that illness is selfish, and I must be better in my ways.
I got dazzled by your lights, a stunned rabbit, to timid to get into fights.
No, your not her, not my twin flame, your soul is an empty expanse with no bridge between mine. And though you trap me with your words, I feel fine. I have trust in the universe, the intervention of the divine.
So busy yourself with the detail of every nonsensical moment, and let me be broken in the corner and bent. It’s not your place to ‘fix’ me … I’m staring at the sky so hard I can see her reflected in the breeze.
D May 2017