when we started,
you always held my hand
so I wouldn't get pulled
in the wrong direction.
it was a beautiful time
and everything
was okay.
I never got lost
and we were never lonely
because each other's company
was more than enough.
two miles up the road
I lost my balance,
our hands lost contact,
and you didn't reach out
to help me.
you let me fall
because you started not to care.
six miles down the road
and you left me
with a map
that I could not read,
running after something,
that was far behind me.
I followed your footprints
into the middle of nowhere
and they led me into
a patch of poison ivy.
I was alone,
four miles behind where I started
and I don't think I have ever felt so
lost.

I am the earth and mistakenly
I thought you were my sun
but you're just a distant star
whose heat cannot power me
I waited
and waited
but still
it could not reach me
I sought the comfort
only your heat  would allow
and left myself for dead
because it was never you
I was waiting for

everything you are and everything you have endured is an unfortunate similarity to knocking on death's door,
for the ultimatum is irreversible in every possible extent.
it's the final melancholy filled goodbye to everything you cherish and a satisfying farewell to everything you do not.
while still conscious, you're aware of the bittersweet emotions bursting through your veins.
then it stops.
a relentless numbness fills the void, not even close to quenching the thirst of wanting to feel something, anything at all.
but you were an addict and without your filthy narcotic there is nothing to help you soar through the endless sky.
you're stuck grounded and there is nothing to feel because all the thrill is in the risk and danger of flying high.
so death opens his doors,
but by this time you are so used to the experience thrown at you by a faulty lover and this ******* world that you walk towards death with open arms.

your veins are merely a representation of both your life and your death
blue trees that line your arms
mapping out the roads your blood follows
keeping you alive
and when they begin to fade out
your bloodline
instead
seeps from the wounds at the
ends of both wrists
and the finish of your life becomes a little more
apparent
to you
and maybe
just maybe
a little rushed
and unfortunately
a lot
regretted