I'm not sure who was more dishonest.

Me: who pretended everything was okay because it had to be,
There was no other way;
Or You: who built the person you needed to be on
A foundation of snow.

When our time came it wasn't okay
And the snow had long since melted.

Me: who ran to fall apart and begin picking up pieces as best I could -
I'm not whole, but there are things I'm learning;
Or You: who crumbled to the world, clutching at redemption -
Your fear was always your best friend.

Of all the scattered fragments,
Was it enough to salvage our own?

Me: who gets through the day by day with steady paces and guilt;
**Or You:

Weaving to the pulse of a room.
The thick blend of sweat and passion is cast out to the hungry.
As the assault eases there is a moment of calm.
A deep breath before the machine gun fire.
Seconds before everything comes crashing down;
An onslaught you know well.
Heavy hits from limbs, belts, and bones as adrenaline
Allows you to give as good as you get and show that you care;
Show that you do this because you have to;
That the pulse owns all and has full control.
I salute those who can make a room implode;
Those who rip everything from you so you have to face it.
The bruises remind us that we were there
And we share the fallout,
Because we live for that ****.