Post Hastened.

Wait...
didn't I tell you?
should I have held you?
I smelled your hair
as you passed on the stairs,
I'm fighting the resistance,
with weapons consistent,
searching for reasons,
making decisions
and excuses,
truths shaken loose
they fall,
but I'm stalling for time,
not calling your name
in the dark,
speaking internally,
swearing
infernal rhetoric,
metronomic ticks,
obtusely
including abuses,
building citadels,
impregnable,
to keep me asleep and unaware,
a dilute
of the resolute,
destroy the well made suit,
that stops me,
chops me
into pieces,
divided between gluttons
and sluts,
but the largest piece is yours,
behind firmly locked doors
I reside,
undecided.