i'm sorry that i write words
into fickle lines
like my life depends on it
and that i sink ships
harbored in your heart
faster than the lose lips that whispered, "i love you"
i'm sorry that the constellations engraved in my palms
will perpetually lead back to you
and that your calloused fingertips will always feel like home
i'm sorry that feelings are fleeting
and that mine are cemented,
that all i've ever wanted
was benevolence
and that you are immortally running in the rivers of my consciousness.
but mostly,
i'm sorry that i will invariably confess through
spilled ink and teardrops
what i stand for
rather than tell you
what the voices  echo constantly in my hollow skull.

there's a slam of a front door
that sends a signal to my lungs
to tell them that they need nicotine
and another to the dry throat that
says it's time for a cup of coffee

i conduct a symphony of
slowly getting out of bed

taking the first sip of coffee
always reminds me of that
first kiss we shared on
new years at midnight,
i knew i would regret it

lately, the drinks i pour in
the evening feel worse than
a burnt tongue, because it
slides down my throat, into the
into the stomach, into the veins,
into the brain that usually tells me
do not think about this tonight but

i am drunk
i am obsessive
i am harmless

i have grown so exhausted of
always being the wrong kind of
brave

the moment of surprise,
hold of breath,
wandering eyes,
cloudy skies,
crowded place,
elevated space,
racing heart,
i'm fallen apart,
tight grip on your colar,
don't be so bipolar,
red lipstick kisses,
heartbroken pieces,
messy hair,
we are the perfect pair,
only when you leave me,
you will see,
why we were so reckless,
young and careless,
fooling around,
misbehaving without a sound,
our hearts wound,
unfixable,
dismissable.

But get your ******* god
out of my ****** face.

It wasn't a mistake,
pushing you away.
My hands worked for me
As my eyes watched my fingers
Let go.

It wasn't a mistake,
running away.
My mind continued
to use as much force as I could
into my muscles to distance myself from you.

It wasn't a mistake,
the way I felt.
With a heart of broken fiber
And with hands of pressured veins,
I found the will to push you away.

It wasn't a mistake.

i very strongly doubt
that you have felt an ache
in your bones
as gravely as i have
when you walked away
from us.