I hope,
I never cross,
your mind.
Just forget me,
block off the path,
worn into,
the mentality,
of your brain.
Let me fade,
like the bitter taste,
of sugarless,
lemonade.
Breath easy,
knowing I’m okay,
without your presence,
on a short lived leash.

The moon,
she lies.
Claims to be,
made of,
cheese.
But does not,
pair well,
with wine.

There is no point,
in rain,
on a winter morning.
It melts,
the beauty,
in the snow,
and makes,
your eyeliner run.
Freezing over,
roads,
causing you to slip,
and break a nail.
But,
it makes,
cheeks redden,
with the cold.
It causes,
fingertips,
to search for yours,
retrieving their warmth.
I like witnessing,
our hot breath,
blending together.
That’s the point,
in rain,
on a cold winter,
morning.

How ridiculous,
to feel,
out of breath.
When you’re,
barely breathing,
to begin with.
Your mouth,
tastes of metal,
because you were,
stupid.
Bit down,
on your tongue,
too hard.
Who am I,
you ask?
You’re looking,
in a mirror,
*******.

I want to lose myself,
surround myself,
with this consuming,
darkness.
Getting smaller,
basically,
nonexistent.
I really don’t,
want to be,
me.
I’ve forgotten,
who,
I might be.

You say,
you’re like,
a bottle.
Filling it,
with emotions,
until it cracks,
and breaks.
I am,
no chance,
in hell,
a bottle.
More like,
a jar,
shoved to,
the brim,
haphazardly.
I may not,
be as fragile,
definitely,
not as,
pretty.
Under pressure,
I may just,
burst,
into pieces.
In the end,
I’ll just leave you,
covered in,
scratches.

I guess,
I’m the bad guy.
Although,
I’m not,
entirely sure,
what I did wrong,
this time.
I’m being,
chastised,
like a child,
who did naughty.
I stare,
at the ground,
twiddle my thumbs,
and bite my tongue.
I’m sorry,
truly,
I apologize,
forgive me.
Is it okay,
are things alright?
Maybe,
it’s just me,
I’m the bad guy,
again this time.