Haunting Elegance

Your words are inviting,
Warm and eloquent.
Deciphering each phrase-
Coined by malaise-
Can strip that warmth, desolate.


You're not a phantom,
But still you haunt me.
Turn your shoulder.
Feign to want me.
There's no room here
For fickle friends.


Your words are hanging,
Loose and decadent.
Discussing every title-
Regardless of how vital-
Can fuel my ever swaying temperament.


You're not a phantom,
But still you haunt me.
Hatred smoldered
Against my body.
There might be room here
For fervid friends.


Lift the pen,
And draw the lines.
Scribble out
Your final title.
Your final
Title.


There's no room here
To make amends.
I'll make your end.


- afm