all the memories of my past selves have claws
from the fingers i pried off of them

i try to let it all sink beneath my feet but
you throw them back like plastic,
saying 'they're drowning the turtles'.

your hatred is relentless and
i don't remember what i did to be on the receiving end

i bury the hatchet and
my heart that bleeds and still
has grave dirt on the corners i can't reach
tells me that this time it is enough

how much longer must i pay
for the sins of women i don't remember

the unavoidable emptiness of half hearts
always lingering where we should not,
and the variety of cynicism born
out of a desire to be proven wrong.

pressing up against your eyes, i see it too.
i see the reasoning slipping, my friend
you want it all too.

so recklessly we throw ourselves against the tides.

'prove me wrong, prove me wrong'
as the song comes out in a whisper that
perhaps nothing will ever be as good as it was.

i follow red threads
back and forth, i am hungry for a map.

as the walls seem to grow further and further away,
i follow the line.

i am ever walking towards something
timid or bold,
the pit is inevitable.

I begin to forget how I loved you
When filling up the space you left

And I watch you,
As you fade
To become only a ghost in my memories

iv.

i called you a brick wall
i hardly knew how right i was
until i shivered and pleaded
for some rhyme or reason
for the things you chose to break.

iii.

the wood beneath my back spins
i hold your hand for safety
and you break open the walls
with no intention of ever finding a door.