Ode to the masochist.

There’s something so charming,
So absolutely disarming about her!
The rate at which she infects you is… ALARMING!
So quick in laughter, in tease, in taunting.
So light is this creature of cobwebs…. Enchanting.

Of her, I have oft heard…. She lives in the border worlds.
Between consciousness and death…
Between a nightmare and a daydream….
Between mirages and the shadows…
She’s on the land on the other side of the mirror…
Her world is real, ours is the reflection.

She appears when you need her,
But she dissolves after you are better.
Surreal like a dream, Sublime like camphor.

She lifts you high, higher than a trip.
She won’t let go till you’re ready.
She’ll catch you when you slip.
But when you look to thank her, she’s gone.

Floats into focus when you don’t focus on her,
Between your eyes and eyelids.
God knows how she came into being…
A descendant of goblins, and elves,
Pixies and fairies…
Her glass voice tinkling…her lips pout strawberries…
Her liquid eyes twinkling.
The perfect balm, the salve for your raw wound,
She sings, she trills… you hear it with your soul,
Your ears are no good…

Of this devilish divinity, I know.
I’ve met her once, inhaled her scent before…
I’ve allowed myself no peace in my life, since!
For she is drawn to the tang of torment.
I tempt her with my anguish….But she comes not.
She comes when she wants….IF she wants.
I have destroyed chances at happiness, chances at peace,
Chances at joy, chances at bliss.
I have destroyed me, so that I could catch a glimpse.
A slight flicker of dust and I crick my neck to see,
If she has returned to visit me…

But alas, she comes when she wants…IF she wants.
She is in my bones, my blood, my brain.
She is absorbed within me.