Delirium

If I become a word I’ll insist on being one syllable.
Tired, I am, of the perpetual cleavage of my self and the fight to heal.
When I become a word I’ll make sure I am a verb, no an adjective.
Perhaps I am good at that, adding an extra perspective to my friends.
When I become a word I’ll demand at least four vowels.
Maybe I no longer need to deny my sensitive nature.
When I become a word I want to be always hand written.
Through me, my friends would reveal their true nature.
When I become a word I’ll refuse to feature in books.
Why would I want more than a few close friends?
When I become a word I’ll finally be close to you.
Whoever sets eye on you, would want to describe you with one word: Me.

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