Hello love,
this here is my resignation,
my last letter of good intent.
I’ve followed you all around your stars
but now I’m exhausted and I am spent.
So broken is my body and my head is a ******* mess,
I feel everything and nothing at once,
but I wish I couldn’t feel this.
I wish that I was dead.
I am sorry that I have to do this to you,
I wish we could work this whole thing out,
but it’s been so long since your head found the clouds
that I’ve lost all hope of it ever coming down.
And I don’t know what possessed you to think I was so durable,
I was never meant to bend to that degree,
but I was too busy navigating your tempest
to quell the one inside of me.

Upon this ship abandoned, I pariah, ambitious conqueror,
ventured into your sea, heading for your coastline
anchored by a sailor’s fabled dream,
that a boy returns a man and finds you there waiting patiently… for me.

But instead I found a darkness, the golden sands, a blackened beach,
my bones carried forward by the tide, hands stretched toward a paradise lost
and forever out of reach.

I was the Nemo of your heart, the captain of a vessel doomed to perish, wrecked upon
the shores of your shallow love, where I found myself captive to the cadence
of a siren’s soft vocal and slowly ripped apart.  

The stillness of your waters still beckons, a dream so serene,
But it’s the darkness of your deep that scares the living **** out of me.

ALONE…
I crossed the plains, by myself, I braved the tempest,
carried forward by a promise that I would find you there
but your head and heart lack a center and so you shift like restless sands,
just when I think I’ve found my needle, you disappear into the haystack again.  

IS THIS WHAT LOVE IS MEANT TO BE?
AN ENDLESS DECAY INSIDE OF ME?

And this loneliness you left me has consumed me like a hunger,
I feel it salivate as it tears the flesh of my mind asunder.
Your emptiness has taken me to the depths of the blackest sea,
whose mouth floods into twisted rivers and lays waste to everything inside of me.  

But I’m done playing slave to your specter,
mourning what is and what was never meant to be.
Who knew chasing your ghost could take so much
so much life out of me?

My thunderous heart roams a dead and forgotten land,
longing for her voice, to guide it home
from its shipwrecked solace in the sand.
She is a burning visage, the only vision at my godforsaken end,
a haunting future foretold by a bitter poet’s tongue,
the teeth marks upon a feeding hand.

To dust, I crumble as I claw my way back to her open outstretched arms,
She was a lighthouse upon the horizon, a beacon silhouetted against the dark,
But she isn’t real.
And if I can’t believe in her ghost long enough to find my way back home,
would I not be living proof that in the end we all ******* die alone?

We all die alone.
We all die…