Dilemma

I won't start to. ( )
You.
I won't start to. ( )
You.
I won't start to. ( )
You.

Because:
1.
2.
3.

And I just can't.
So why am I thinking about it?


On your breath
the smell of
your smell.
And my wordless
thoughts can't tell

(you what I'm feeling)

But I don't know
why it is I think
what I feel
and I dream
what I say
in my head
I am lost
between night,
nearing day

and the futility
of every single wish
fluttering by,
broken butterflies


(crushed)


beneath your foot.