Yo-yo Playing

Old love song records visiting the head repeating while wrapping pity in melodies we like.

Some say well this isn’t a real issue please evacuate it and find tissues their empathy is urinated away.

It’s a yearning full of abuse or so it seems when answers giggle and hide.

And some poets and I gather whispering intent to pray our hearts away.

Pleading with God to detach some wires disabling strongholds regarding human affection.

Some nights in fogged teases folks attention seeking leaving us dry after we accept lowering our walls.

Going to lose our nagging phones on accident on purpose to escape the noise and poisoned hope we have.

Because they’ll send a message then disappear and when you let them go they reappear and it’s just to see if you’ll refill unearned importance.

 

 

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