Trying to stay single

I'm astounded, somehow it's found its way back in. I wanna be surprised, but it was bound to happen because when left alone what lies in the shadows is certain to start chattin, attractin me to silence my own voice like Chaplin. It is my choice when it's all said and done, but like the setting sun I can't enjoy it when it happens, I recognize the dark that's unavoidable, run and hide your unaffordables. In an entire life span, how many moments does it take to inspire the right hand from retiring the knife and scalpel? I only want the ripest mouthfuls of memories, the rest can be pulled to the bottom, skull full of problems, a captain sinking with his ship. It's blinking and a stiff lower lip, but to talk is not an option, no one needs to hear what's caught up in a conscience that's lost within the nonsense. I bet some would beg to differ, I bet some others would be quicker to the drawl, designing pictures on the wall scrawled in scarlet, depicting what's been crawling in apartments. Abandonment is all I've ever known, but not by those that've grown fond of me, it's me who can't quite seem to hone honesty. A skill to be mastered last, repairing below the surface like a plastered cast so for the moment I can't stand behind other's motives, I barely know my own, hence the mopin, tryin to find out what gets this boat in motion while at the same time providing loaves and potions. A truth serum that leaves every tooth wiser because I want to ingest what's objective, connect what's corrected, and move higher in my understanding of what's hunger undemanding. I was younger when I was standing in line for lunches, now my diet's divided into hunches, skeptical of every item each incisor munches, causing me to hesitate to eat. My head levitates when weak, I can demonstrate, for weeks now I've somehow sought to seek out a heaven when deceased. I know though that's a no go, alive or dead, do you suffer from fomo or yodo? I hear the new fear is missing out on death, they say one kiss from her is worth six million pecks undeserved and if you have the nerve, approach her balcony reciting words selected for their sentiment, present a necklace with some peppermints. Trust me it's not news to her you feel neglected like a leper, wince at your own reflection, and the directions you've chosen at intersections. She gets it believe me, deceives a few into seeing the future's brightest box if only they propose to tie the knot, but really who's to say there's deception. Cutting the chord sounds lovely to someone ignored since their conception, never won some affection until Ms. Abyss listened with discretion. As much as I like to chat with her, I can't dedicate my lap to her, f**k my life like a bachelor.