I’ve made my mint from you by force feeding you fears,
you made it up to yourself by wasting my years.

The “what if’s,” “where at’s,” and questionable deeds,
self righteous as I am your good intentions are just unwatered, planted seeds.

You spun detailed, vivid plans to any and all who would listen,
but if we both worked so ******* ‘us’ why is it just my brow that glistens?

The history is our guide, our hope and a lesson used for learning,
you didn’t study, repeat offender as you set fire to your past, now burning.

Only ashes remain for me to sift through and ***** out,
you let your flame burn, ever so small - impossible to remove doubt.

Blackened, burned and now a soul too dark to leave,
the truth fought through and your intentions I couldn’t sieve.

We are now just the walking dead, “I care about you,” another lie that’s been fed.

Hold me while you hate everything that I love for,
trick my trust and lie for my lust, I can’t survive anymore.

I painted our picture with red lashes from this heart within,
I should have noticed when you cut all ties, it’s too late to try again.

Pickaxe swings,
shards fly.
Pieces move,
yet inners hide.

I've been swinging
both day and night.
Understanding you
is a futile fight.

The girl eats me.
She eats my hands.
She starts with the fingers,
and she's quick to the wrist.

The girl beats me.
I can't point to my assailant.
I can't count the days.
She's still at large.

The girl eats me and eats me.
She eats my hands in four bites,
but it takes nine for my face.
She moves like a woodpecker.

The girl beats me and beats me.
I'm too embarrassed to say anything.
I tell my friends that I
fell down the stairs; so clumsy.

The girl eats me and eats me, again.
She chews her food very well.
I cry every time I think about
those teeth and that tongue.

The girl beats me and beats me, again.
Hey take it easy...
One of these days
your really gonna hurt me.

there's a tumbleweed ricocheting off the barren walls of my heart.
there's a tumbleweed rustling within the bleak walls of my brain.
I am breaking apart,
I am going insane,
No,
I simply am going.
I am going,
I am gone.

There is no savior
for all;
there's even no
individual salvation

You know the cost
of a call,
but that of
conversation?

You can hear,
that I know,
but can you listen?
And when you talk
is it the things
you say
or is it in the way...
What is absent,
is it missing?