I wouldn’t know what to do with a man like you,
How would I cope?
I’m not used to being copasetic
Cohesive
Molded into what being alone has made me,
Irresolute.
Holding out for something supreme,
I quit taking in the rogues,
A sharp halt to rationing provisions,
Stay open, stay hoping,
Optimism has long abandoned,
But I’ve settled into a blissful unconsciousness
I know nothing but self-reliance.
Everything italics
I kill the idea before it swells,
and wait for someone to hunt me.