cosmic connection

and when

children have

imaginary friends

it's kinda cute,

mostly sad,

but

i understand

decades later

that isolation

is tough

on the

human condition

because

you are there

and i am here

and my skin

still feels

your voice

and i grin

like a lovestruck fool

when i see

a car

like yours

bittersweet,

mostly bitter,

and i dwell

on the times

we'd sit in it

no place i'd rather be

and

the creaky door

to my consciousness

makes no sound

when you pry it

or barge right in

whichever you choose

and the way

you break and enter

should warrant

a stern punishment

or perhaps

one day

i'll stow you away

in my chamber

yet

how can i

discipline you,

you divine vandal (woven by clever constellations and sanguine ash)

when i encourage

your intrusion

because i'm sick

and i'm twisted

and

you frequent my mind

so often

i cannot distinguish

between memories and dreams

to the point where

i understand

a higher power,

omnipresent,

like you

in my veins

and i wish

for broader shoulders

for i carry you

wherever i go