The truth hurts, naturally,
I can break you down
To what you truly are,
Which isn’t much
And to be honest
It never really
Got that far.

A pendulum swings the same way
Today as it did yesterday.
No snap of the fingers
Can change what lingers
So deadly repeatedly.
Day after day after day,
My eyes open the exact same way,
And time’s in a knot
With or without delay,
Everything drags;
Gut wrenching, teeth grinding, fist clenching
And drags some more.
Day after day after day.

The butterflies, they cluster so,
I smell their fear in the air.
They seem so free, so unsuspecting,
But I hold one in my hand,
I admire its aesthetic value
And rip its wings off.
Unsuspecting—nothing’s free.

Do not even bother—
Will not get me to give
Will not get me to soften the edge.
I do not do feeling
I do not call it love;
Do not even bother—
I am cold as frostbite
At the end of May
On sleepless nights
The Sandman’s Prey.

Idle love sleeps day by day;
Beneath the sunshine lovers lay.
Daisy petals strewn about,
Wind casts the seedlings far away.
But when does fondness become a bore?
When rings are thrown upon the floor
And notes blaze so intrepidly
Devotion vanished forevermore.

The evidence of a wretched lover
Presents itself as thus:
Crumpled tissues, dampened pillows,
Unruly blankets and sheets.
The wailing Venus is always blank,
With little affection to reap.
How could there be a joy in the world,
When all she does is weep?

It wasn’t too late, too early,
Simply a masquerade of paranoia;
Such an excuse blankets my
Poorly timed daydreams and
Silly grandiosity, unwillingly
Born from words left unsaid
Silence is a virtue when you are lying in bed
Out of breath and perspiring,
Nothingness is so tiring, conflicting when
Time has gotten much older
But my head’s on your shoulder,
**** your words and expressions,
Suspiciously uttered into my ear
When I’m spent, on my back
Yet I still attempt a smile
As I’m touched, in denial,
Slightly used and abused,
Your best kept secret.
Keep these moments on empty,
Thoughts secured tight,
Taking no feeling out of these nights,
The sick darkness reoccurs, if it wasn’t for you
Knew it couldn’t be right,
I am shut, uncatchable, unreachable, cold
Because everything in happiness eventually gets old;
This has been for a while,
And it’s making me numb…
I guess now we both know
What this has become.