I wonder if he noticed.
Noticed what day it is.
My first thought when I saw it was
"Oh hey seven months"
But then I had to remind myself that it's not.
That were not...
So I wonder if he noticed that today was the 25th.
I wonder if for a second he forgot too.
Or if it didn't even phase him.
As though it was any other day.
Which I guess it is now.
Since we've agreed that all we are is friends.
Though he will never just be my friend.
And 25 will never go back to being just a number.
I wonder if he knows that also.
If he agrees.
Or if he's gone back to thinking of me as though we were never together

Why is it that the one person who I want to hold me...
Hold me in the moments that I want to die.
Is the same person that makes me want to die.
Want to die because I can't have him holding me.
It's irony at its best.

Our differences do divide us,
They keep us parallel.
Apart.

Our differences don't alienate us,
They keep us unique.
Unparalleled.

There are differences between us,
They maintain our unity, and affection.
Perpendicular.

Truth be told
I want to cut my memory out of your veins
Watch you bleed me into a puddle on the floor
I hope you enjoy watching what you've done to me

Truth be told
Please don't speak my name again
It smells like rancid meat dripping out out of your saliva
You are not the first who has taken advantage
But I pray you will be the last

Truth be told
I don't really hate you
I just said that over the phone
Because I hated that I couldn't keep your faith in me
When your body came crashing into me like a tidal wave
Then, I had your trust
Then, I had your attention
Then, I had you

Truth be told
I don't miss you anymore
But I don't want you to remember me as I was
Or as I am
I know I will be someone of great esteem one day
And you?
You'll be here with your **** in one hand
And a pack of cigarettes in the other
Wishing I had been cut from your body
Before you let me inside.

Outerspace is my only liberation
To break these chains that hold me earthbound
I am a prisoner of this soil
These green eyes wilt
And the light inside dies
These lungs choke on the smog
Of these dusty streets
Give me up to the sky
The only place where my wings are free
And I can fly

**** the noise.

You hear that?
That distant whisper
Is not your imagination.

**** the lights.

That red tint of shadow.
Pressure behind your eyes.
Its not a headache

Now you're in the dark.

Do you feel it...
Its trying to escape.

Fight it.

Or be consumed.