Feelings

I cannot be furious at you forever.
I wish I could be, it's fun, in a horrific way.
It would cause me too much hassle.
Your shunned presence is now fake.
And this is why;

For instance
your smile
cracked, like the frosted window pane
and your fingers
dry and chapped, like frazzled wood chippings
A melody, a romance without flow
and once upon a time
I would've never let you go.
The unpromising attempts
dragged you down to fix this gap
which let in a slight draught
that you weren't tough enough to bear.
Collapsing into your cradle
sour voices, intoxicting the air are
resting on your afflication,
like the angels frosted wings, and
my pressure building underneath may fracture and scrape them apart,
but you will never lose your crown
to the supremacy to this excellency.

Happiness, evades me, whilst
paranoia, stalks me
and you are both it's rapture and it's grave.