talk talk talk in circles
i'm
watching you look over bits of the past
and rewrite
as your trying to tell your story...
only  
i'm not quiet fallowing the st st stuttered symbolism's the jagged
concepts you split in five different directions
your diction  just as repetitious as the first word you read
In every new sentence.
you were never very good at reading aloud.
or even
reading to the end of a sentence,
you generally cut outside concepts in to different pieces
so as to insert your own forced bits of puzzle into
the frames of which
they were never intended.
every script written in my ugly hand or set to hard copy
mocked and sifted like
sand in your angry fist.
shifting like the earth beneath my feet,
when I lost my self or
perhaps looking back now
When I was lifted.

Perspective is a funny thing
It changes everything -
I hated about being weak and scared and faithless,
about not being what brave was
to the bravest
women that have graced my existence.
I was watching you in new frames
but through old lenses,
everything contingent on me
being the source of conflict-ion .
infliction
I existed for your
protection,
for your acceptance
directionless when every light I had ever known
went out in a karmic gust of wind.
I am braver now than I have ever seen you be.
I believe i'm braver now
then you have ever been.
for the only real weakness I have held in me
for the weakness in my chest I have no shame
you can blame me,if you wish, some times you must forget
I am Human.
I am Human.
that is my weakness
I am HUMANE
When I watch a cataclysm like our story end in so much pain..
Every rewrite rendering more blood.
I end it.
Hand trembling over foreign trigger as I lift it,
I will cry later
when i'm alone.
For everybody's sake.
Now..
I am done.