QUESTION MARK

The magnetic passion that pulls us together
is tearing me apart
our relationship like raw dough
unseasoned
unmolded
unlimited possibilities?
like putty in our hands

each of us wanting to mold it
into our own ideal
you, a golden cake made to be eaten overtime
I, a golden batch of cookies
made to be eaten on the go
take it slow
take it slow
I told myself
but it's too late
stuck to the pan like old pork grease
wanting to free myself
and at the same time wanting to stay

raw dough 
sweltering in the heat
of a cold oven
how can it be?
This unexplainable thing
this mysterious force
more innocent and powerful then lust
yet weaker then....

so cryptic like the misty black lagoon
attractive and mysterious to the eye
yet, so dangerous to the diver
diving deeper and deeper
into the blinding black abyss
while the mind says stop
something draws him closer
and he can't explain it to himself
nor can he explain it to others
no, he can't explain 
it at all

Scars may come
scars may go
but forever branded
am I by the question mark