The broken bottle

My idea and fear of falling into the confines of a relationship

The timid tenderness of her humble
hand hurriedly hushing all those invigorated voices
Freely fluttering
into fruition within
my thorn thriving
thickets of thought.
Leaving in their ashes
a single silken sigh of serenity.
Slowly swirling my soul into a sporadic star spangled spiral. Eternally turning towards that sumptuously soft spoken sentiment subtly seeping itself within the fumes of a faintly faded fantasy. But yet I still partially dwell in the worrisome realms of doubt. The doubt of many things that may seem highly insignificant to some people but to me it means everything.
I doubt that we would come to the end of this lifeline together, for I think that just like a glass bottle our relationship while in a moment of turmoil would in inevitable fall and smash into a thousand pieces leaving some of those shimmering shards of shame to permanently imbed themselves within our hearts. And as a result we would be too broken to come back into each other’s arms.

No one wants to be alone but the question still remains

How can you find comfort in a world where everything fades away ?

In this world the tragic truth is that all we have in the end is only ourselves
Only our hand to hold the other in comfort as we watch life’s fluorescent. Timidly turning light slowly begins it’s bitterly bashful burnout into the frequent dimming depths of darkness.