I Can Remember When I Mattered, Just Not Yo You.

"This is more then I'll ever

admit to

myself"

Drained and still invalidated despite all efforts (emphasis on spite) two bodies remain paused in their struggle to find love while the world below moves on. She wakes first, blurry morning eyes just want somebody there. The dirt on the window seems to signify the way that the sun will never shine on their skin the same way again. Insinuates that you never really see the picture clearly until youre out of it. The straight line split in the curtains makes up for the lack of spine on his back. The stories he can't tell reveal themselves in the way he slurs and stutters excuses into the cellphone. The corner of his smile has a spike like the punch he keeps his secrets in. The only thing he notices about her is she looks better face down when she could be mistaken someone else. She's creaking loose floorboards with a mattress spring to match. Her heart ticking that echoes inside his skull. A makeshift timebomb. a quivering cache on the waivering justice scales. Is it enough, is it enough? "If that heart is really so beautiful why would it emasculate me every time I see it? every time I see he just puts his hand over it, not making a promise on oath but breaking them by faith. Breaking them with honest eyes." Whispers against ears that know better but perk up anyway. Lethargic wrinkles in the sheets where she was once, smelling the night air that seems to have weakened without her. Or just the lungs inhaling it in. Convince me. Everybody wants to cause an impact not be the aftermath. Its a dog eat dog world- belly up on the buffet line. We feed on the dirt we're buried under until we (or our egos) are too bloated to move. When the final nail in your coffin is rusty does it matter that the coffin is too? Is it enough, is this enough? Stop time to save time, run out of time and run out on me. Stomachache from all the secrets in my head running out of room, wanting me to vomit them out. You only ever called to call me out. Deteriorating due to lack of touch instead of too much. The dust in the cracks of our worst breakdowns, reminding us where we failed before when each old wound is reopened by the same slash. Deep. The rain hits the pavement to wash away our feet prints, these memories. It can't get inside a head or a heart and neither can I. Concrete heart and tar lips sealed shut. We've been opening the wrong parts. I can spot flaws in anyone, simply because I have them all.

No one wants to get hurt in this two star town. I'm tired of the fakes and gossip. I wish things were real again. I want to feel real love, I want to know what love is for god's sake. I want smiles to be real and not deciving. I'm tired of getting hurt.

Shane, I miss you and I haven't heard from you in a while. Please tell me you're safe? I love you.

In January I jabbed my arm at night with the row of pins, and woke up thinking of you.