i'm lost in a maze of gyri and sulci
tiptoeing over memories
triggering reflexes still out of my control
over an irreparable foundation
what is the use in trying to piece scraps together
when the final product is no work of art
but an unpalatable ******* of a thing
that once was called love

"we broke up"

no
we did not
"break up"

you left me
you gave up
and quit
just like that
like it was nothing

it was never mutual
and i never agreed
yet i just had to accept it

i couldn't then
but now i do...
begrudgingly

i thought i moved on
he drove himself into me so hard
i felt static in the tips of my fingers and toes
i was sure i was over you
but when he was in me
all i could think about was
that time you told me
you'd love me forever

we're partners in crime
(if crimes were adventures)
and we were adventurers
(if adventures were conversations)
and we shared discussions
(if discussions were love songs)
and you made me sing them
(if singing was sharing)
and all of your wisdom words and stories
(if lies were true)
and we actually met
(if i wasn't me)
and you weren't you
(if we weren't friends)
we'd be perfect

it's kinda ******
you don't really have a choice
you know like AA

nothing hurts better than that dry friction
piercing deep into my most frigid parts
warming me up then melting me down
into a formless mass of something
yet it's the only time i feel nothing
and nothing hurts better

the stink of beer smoke and ****
with trace amounts of shame
has never smelled so nice
this must be heaven

at times i'm stuck
my shackles tight
yet self-imposed
they keep me here
away from you
my only light
can't save me from myself