Ever aware of the facade of proper distance.
Even broken, I continue to waltz.
You comment in rapid breathing patterns.
I'm your patron saint.
I'm your insurance policy.
Strike another lash, flaying my
bruised skin wide.
Lacerate my soul with
deep meaningful laughter,
or a hot stream of life,
that means nothing that it should.
Wind me up and keep me spinning.
While you leave the room,
leave the house, leave the planet.
In pursuit of distraction.
While you struggle with
false enlightenment, a has-been messiah
you are too scared to denounce.
My dance is Earths rotation,
effecting the tides of your blood.
You peer briefly through your
cloak of denial, to watch me
spin with guarded passion,
grudging appreciation, giving
recognition to the tune which is
plucked from your heart strings,
if only for a fleeting moment.
My steps falter at your undivided
attention, fluid motion impossible
until you retreat once more.
Keep me dancing in one place.
Afraid of the truth, afraid of the lies,
afraid of yourself.
You used to think me beautiful.
