The illness that is, Undiagnosed Chemistry

 

 

Like a secret stitch that no other sewing machine

nor

 two people

              can replicate;

und i a g n o s e d 

chemistry. 

 

A reserved sign made remarkably obvious when others attempt to join the conversation; 

und i a g n o s e d 

chemistry. 

 

They make you feel like you’ve cheating, 

 without having to touch them;

und i a g n o s e d

chemistry.

 

Something cancerous that expands 

in the mind;

und i a g n o s e d

chemistry.

 

 

The kind that jumps out from behind a bush,

on the walk home

and strangles you to the ground. 

Un diag nosed chem

is

tr

y.

 

 

Any slight rejection or mere mention of another 

   warrants an angry 

unexplained response. 

          

Change in attention,

 sounds like a slap. 

 

A simple hello, the equivalent

          of a minute long heart-attack. 

   

 

I talk to someone else, 

who A. entered into the conversation 

himself. 

Then A. begins to twist the material on my leggings. 

Pinching my thighs,

 to the point where I have to stop what I’m saying 

and direct my anger 

onto him. He smiles like he’s won. 

And we continue like before, 

          forgetting the third face in-between.

 

Never a triangle,

rather a thick unshaved line 

Between you and me-

 

       the spilling of red wine.

         Und i a g n o s e d

           Chemistry.

 

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