untitled...

I've never been good at happy poems.
Just like, I suppose, how I'm no good at happy times--
Always looking for the signs we're sliding into bad blood,
Sabotaging it if we don't when I feel we ought to.

Do I do it so I can write about it?
Or do I write like this because it's all I can pull from?
Once the thrill of something good and new fades,
Apprehension slithers in and smothers any hope.

Doubt's long fingers wrap around my resolve
Slowly strangling, crushing, obliterating gleeful thoughts.
With love comes paranoia, holding hands frolicking about;
Together driving me mad as I fall deeper.

I can kick my heels up here, knowing it's crashing down round my ears.
Relax knowing my attempts at sabotage finally set me free.
Waiting, waiting, w a i t i n g for this point was wearing me down.
Crumbling and blowing away is our shot-- and I can breathe easy.

Knowing now your words and actions can't have a hidden secret agenda,
I loosen up because there's no need to translate you for honesty.
This will be the freest you've seen me, now it's all on the table;
Dangling over the abyss of uncertainty no longer, I'm the shining bit that caught your eye again.

Because that's my cycle; I'm a relationship phoenix.
Vibrant until I start to care, until you start to really matter.
Then I become wary-- watchful and secretly suspicious.
I fade as I question your affections-- after all I'm only me.

You may start to lose interest at this point, seeing my dull coat
I don't blame you; I've already assumed you have by now.
I untangle myself from the connections we've made or I've invented,
Feeling vindicated I goad the break down so I may burst into final flames.

Finally free again, I can just enjoy what's left of our company.
Goodbyes I'm great at-- especially ones orchestrated by my antics.
Aflame, though, I'm the golden beacon you were originally drawn to.
You're entranced by my flourishes, my leave taking motions.

I've caught your eye again, so you lay on the charms.
Ever so susceptible, I play into your words.
Taking your lead and passing it back amidst my with, thinking we're past playful romance.
Until, before I know it, I'm ensnared and my phoenix is in your cage again.

This is my vicious cycle, forever playing with fire.
I've been burned sure, but I have brought most of it on myself.
I see it all now, after all hindsight has to be good for something, right?
Surely, happiness is only the enemy if I make it so.

Doubt won't make my heart it's summer home any more,
I can't let it snuff out all the baby blooms of joy I've manage to nurture.
Apprehension is a permanent citizen, sadly, but we'll take baby steps to evict it.
And here's hoping the next time I set myself on fire...

I burn the damn cage with me.