The only way,
You’ll pick me,
Is in a line up.
“Who’s heart was it sir? Who’s heart was the one you crushed up and ruined for everyone else?”
That one there.
The girl with the honest eyes
And the irrelevant freckles.
That’s her. I’m sure of it.
Well that’s when I was handcuffed.
Taken into custody.
Into a cell, a familiar place, but uncomforting for the first time.
There were walls, casing me in
made up of your words.
And when I turned to escape I felt your arms
Around me.
They weren’t holding me with love this time though.
No, they were holding me back.
They were crushing me,
With hope,
And longing,
And the muscles of the past
Which will always hit you right between the eyes
When you least expect it.
And I managed to escape.
I turned away and ran for what seemed like an exit
But in reality was just
An illusion.
A filler,
In my heart to replace what
Can never be.
So I collapsed, and thought over
The crimes I had committed
To get me here.
I remembered the writing.
The lyrical stylings of pen against paper,
Provided by yours truly, for you wholly.
Inspired by and dedicated to you,
Created by love, published by vulnerability.
And then I thought about the skin.
The flesh that we shared.
And it must not have been soft enough,
Or warm enough,
Or have had enough electricity,
To power the whole world,
Just a few continents.
I thought about time. The clocks,
That ticked, slowly, but surely,
Filled with me,
Adoring you.
My placing in this room mustn’t have been
A mistake.
My thoughts were far too fast and far too strong
To be legal.
Far too much for me to handle.
So I must need help.
But then it’s your face that hits me, and I feel it.
I feel it all again.
I remember what the sun looks like and what fresh air smells like and what it feels like not to be
Alone.
Alone.
And that was it.
I knew why I was here. I knew why i was alone in this place that was made up of you.
You escaped.
You *******,
What a smart guy you are.
You found the spoon.
You dug your way out of the cell you had enclosed us in,
And I didn’t even notice.
You slowly but surely carved away
At what I found sacred,
And hallowed.
And I never even knew it, until you were gone.
And then I was here.
Serving my life sentence.
Awaiting trial.
” Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the evidence has been laid before you. Have you come to a verdict?”
And no one spoke.
Because they had nothing to say. And they didn’t understand,
Just like me, how someone guilty,
Could get off free.
But you did.
And I know, that the scars,
On the left side of my chest,
Are all,
I’ve got to show.

I sit bundled up in the hard wicker chair, staring at the cold, bleak world around me. My only comfort, some old worn slippers and a scratchy knit cap. I feel freezing droplets of water kiss my face as they pass by with sudden, angry gusts of air. The smell is not one of fresh clean earth and new beginnings. It is tired and weary and hopeless. It’s lost causes and missed opportunities. It’s me and it’s you and it’s the people already asleep. Shadows of the dormant and unforgiving dance upon the walls of every building that surrounds me. They are much too large and look so out of place, but I do not care about this. They are there, and that is all I need to know. I sense that everything is hidden. I think not from the tears of the earth, but from the insecurities the envelop their hearts and unconscious. They feel the unwanted pull of vulnerability and escape to a safe place. To the arms of boyfriends they don’t really love and jobs they outgrew a decade ago. To a bottle of gin and roadmaps unused. The pounding of the water grows to an accelerated pace, pulls me away from this cage, and forces me to look into my own eyes for the first time. I strip off each layer of clothing I have on and run out into this downpour of life, with nothing on my shoulders except flesh. I breathe in the heady scent of water hitting pavement, and lift my hands upward. With the first drop of water that hits my tongue, I fall to my knees and smile. I am clean.

piece temporarily down for mental cleansing.

I want you to be my home,

and we,

will travel the world.

For the first time,

I will feel I am meant to be where I am,

wherever I may be.

I’m so tired,

but I could break every dish in this place.

If I screamed,

and bled,

and fell to my knees,

would you even walk over to clean up the mess on your floor?

Mr. Incredible,

waiting for your wonder woman,

but who the **** is a hero,

when no one’s being saved.

Trusted you,

thrusted you,

and now,

i’m disintegrating,

rusted in you.

Cut from the same cloth,

but i’m fading.

I’m torn up,

and spilled on,

and nothing but new is good enough for you.

Took me away,

bag me up,

may wind up at a good will.

But all I had was good will,

good intentions,

muddled by imperfections

you must not have been able to look past.

But ain’t that the ***,

calling the kettle ******.

You’re riddled with the same mistakes as me,

breaks as me,

teased about your weight like me,

face like me,

the braces that used to cover your incisors,

but mine weren’t.

I was always straight with you.

And one time,

I was late with you.

And then,

you ran.

Cause our mistakes,

could only be placed on me.

Now,

i’m tired.

Cause I could have held part of you,

but I just held the burdens.

And I did so gladly,

I wore you like a crown.

I sported you rightfully,

but you thought you entitled me.

Again about me.

Even when i’m dissing you,

i’m wishing I was kissing you.

Cause you helped make me,

baby.

But now i’m your creation,

sitting here waiting,

wishing I was breaking,

everything,

but us.