Maybe I was so scared that he'd stop loving me
- I pushed him away instead

You'll find no loyalty to a country in me
A body of land is a body of land
And that is all it will ever be.

You'll find no tether to a grave with me
Mistakes were made for which must be paid
But before it's due, I will flee.

You'll find no tearful denials in my speech
The people have done what they thought they must
And that has never shocked me.

You'll find no willful positivity in me
The hand we've turned will be a lesson learned
Wether it be joy or misery.

You'll find little else but solidarity
My morals are my country
My strength is my mentality
My freedom, my nationality

You'll find little else but the strength to temper your mistakes
With stoic resignation I will watch
As this country breaks, it breaks.

I will forever mourn you,
You and your plastic heart.
The fake ways of saying "I love you too",
As you tick another name off your chart.

I will forever forgive you,
The way I cursed your name,
For you too have an open mind,
And a heart that beats the same.

I will forever forgive you,
Because a grudge is a bad idea,
And my Mother tends to exaggerate things,
So she's ingrained my mind with fear.

What I have learned from your leaving,
Is to never trust others,
No matter if they're your greatest friend,
Sisters or Brothers.

We're a selfish race of humans,
And you've just about proved my point,
Because a Devil tricked my Mother,
But her children's hearts she did anoint.

Cellophane mounts,
Where the sacred forbids,
     And my ribs ache a little,
     And the sofa’s rotten,
Come the morning you weren’t here.

Laundry molds,
When the dishes welcome roach,
     And my tongue’s among dry,
     And my ankle’s gone numb,
Come the morning you weren’t here.

The music’s somewhere else,
Where the air’s more stale than before,
     And my finger’s twitch a’call,
     And my ears cry before the baby,
Come the morning you weren’t here.

Plaster cakes the floor,
When the door knocks certain death,
     And my bones start to bare,
     And my shoulder’s poking through,
Come the morning you weren’t here.

Green becomes a the fridge,
Where night’s now alter years,
     And my side starts to burn,
     And my lungs whimper when eased,
Come the morning you weren’t here.

But I am. Oh Lord! I am! And near ends
When the state sucker-punched,
     And I know you feel the same
     And our son feels the same,
Come the dawn prior day we’d fled.

i'm lost

between what i said
and what you heard me say

between what you thought i meant
and what i thought you heard

between what i tried to say
and what you chose to listen to

between what you felt
and how i feel

i'm lost in a sea of ubiquity
you don't understand what this means to me