this piece, i suppose, was to kind of reflect on the span of my romantic involvements. upon recalling some things i've come to realize a few things; namely my incredibly discouraging record of experience.
i had no idea how much of a piece of shit i could be.
fighting cities
no rest for the truly despicable
left nestled in visuals
pressed to keep cohesion
too-frequently i neglect reason
too often i've played a part in
the dismantling of relationships
simply to relish in the demolition,
the shattered minutes spent being a battered vicitm,
the pattern rising from the skin,
the blood i've given;
it's no matter when or to whom
because i'll never get it back
my love is scattered,
to search it out would be like
chasing fireflies in daylight
and still i've done just that
attached to the passive suicide i find
inside my cigarette pack-
inside the ones that fail to impart
a lasting impact-
inside my empty stomach...
they say you are what's in your gut, right?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment