You are becoming my sense of home, one that I don't feel like abandoning.

This feeling returns
Like running in circles
It's getting old
It leaves me at the
bottom of the bottle
lonely and cold

I make up
conversations
in my head
constructed from the
words you never
say.

I still can't decide
if silence
would be preferable.

i once read
where someone said

'we run from rain
but sit in tubs filled with
water.'

and since that moment,
on days where teardrops
fall from the sky,
i have not skipped out
on letting them kiss my skin
and melt into my hair

because i want to feel
everything i can in this mundane
life before -

Cut your teeth
on gasoline,
white lies, small death
and saccharine.

Hollow chests,
empty smiles.
thoughts and hearts
will stop a while.

Cold hands,
cold hearts.
we're dangerous children
with poisonous darts.

Tears crumple to the ground
But so do the raindrops

And as you can't tell the difference
In which one is which

One soul gone
In a storm of millions
Would not ever seem amiss