the worn and creepy throne

my rugged and worn chair reminds you
of a defeated kingdom and a fallen throne
that only a true anthropologist relates to.

[why are you here observing me in my environment?
your presence alone alters my behavior,
and isn’t that the inherent issue with anthropology?
your presence … suffocates my behavior.]

your presence is now devouring my thoughts;
your presence is now my behavior;
your presence transforms the air that I breath
rearranging the molecules that can
only be meant to fuel and burn
my addiction for your presence.

I cannot escape your presence
even in your absence;
my environment has been amended
and now includes your constitution.

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Recently moved back to the States after living 16 months in Vietnam. I write to remove the thoughts trapped in the cobwebs of my psyche before the spider envelopes me whole.

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