Words and Again

Some things I just should have expected
other things I knew very well about.
Your word?
The trust?
Negotiationable fallacies lacking grace.

The words you say can almost take flight
and ride upon the winds of fate,
quite noble in your pursuits.
I'm at a loss for words while you are lost over you.
Melodic notes, striking chords and the rest fill empty air,
the reassuring thoughts of silence only act to remind me
again and again of that which I seek to loose.

Choosing thought, loosing sight with all the repetitions in vain.
Attempting to close doors on this part of my mind doesn't work.
Regardless of my attempt both you and the problem remain.

Repetition again and again.
The words remain the same.
I loose myself in soundless remixes of thought,
just so I can pause to reflect on the thought.

I'm not sure on this reflective thought or the consequence it follows.
Repetition again and again.
Words wrap and following in themselves.
I tried to find the way in its own self but I found nothing,
nothing but the same empty room that this began in.

The light doesn't enter such a place,
it curves and bends shape to avoid the confrontation.
The ever desperate attempt at life does nothing but this,
this false imitation of itself,
just whatever and ever it even means in the beginning and end.

I don't know.
It may just be words speaking for themselves,
words wastering, killing, wondering, dying and being this.
It may be this or it could be that.
I do not know the words I am trying to say,
just that they are themselves.
Words repetitious and superstitious.
Words themselves.
Words representing and living.
Roaring flames desperately alive.
Benin only in their incompleteness,
alive only in their self.