An Unraveling

The frills of my love are becoming ensnared
by the thorns that are your judging your lies and your compulsion
now the honeymoon is over I am  painfully aware
of these ignorant emulsions
yes the frills are becoming ensnared
as my own good judging begins to become unraveled...
obscured by the maniacal convoluted
pass times of a brain laid waste
I begin to realize that the unraveling has picked up it's pace
No more wining and dining
I am consumed with a mental masturbatory kind of uneducated pining
I am finished with what I once saw as a golden opportunity
To be with you is to deny me; ME.