Attachments Poem by Her Pot

The sunset swifts through the atmosphere, ranting in slurs, and deafening our regards
Misery and melancholy creeping in with no inch of radiance
All these concerns of how we've lost our time
Normalizing hurt with no remorse
A love with a slew of strings, that we exercise to escape
Help me depart from a love soaked in lies
All your fake tears cannot soothe my soul
They fill my lungs,
The lungs that held so much life once upon a time
The lungs that casually slip beneath the conscious world
Clouded from the morning sunlight
Making us irresistible slaves to this circle that orbits our rise and crumble
A first- class mark of loss. Dumbstruck, my friend
Thine light locks me in its fatal flame
Such a dominant feeling of warmth and keeping
My figure playing in meticulous motion against yours
Burning the plague of the night
Until tender sounds of relief blossom
Linking your nose adjacent,
Locking your eyes into mine
A reflection of historical imagery emerges
There we are: sinking in the beautiful parallels of black and white
Waiting for delusions to mold into reality
Waiting for two particularly rowdy little clocks to tick moderately into one