Intermittent Transmissions of Delirium

Artfully imbued, truth is how screwed up it is I'm still lamenting my past, but you're walking away. Leave me to decay, floundering in a maze of dark. My heart, this art, these stops and starts are all I've got. It's not like an emergency. I've got something urgently to say, if only untangling my words was worth it today, worthy of another chance, I'd ask but you'll put me to task if I mention it. Just a kiss away from finding out the doubt was all we had between us-- please just sit and play this game, save me again.