they hide their sadness differently
each filling their emptiness with
never ending
waves of poor choices and
escalating consequences
he will never find relief in memories
of better times of kind words of moments shared under the moon on a hill where time and again they danced in and out of each other
she will never find relief in a bottle or a twisted piece of cellophane chasing the ghost of better times of kind words of moments shared when their souls and bodies were bare and there were no conceits or pretensions or sarcasms
of a time when they were the world
and the world was them
so they continue to chase
their relief in the wrong directions
when they both know that the
solution is asking to be found
So instead they'll forever carve each other's
names into their
very last
bare
inch of bone