every second, unplanned.
every moment, the weightlessness
or the heaviness of silence.
you're in my thoughts,
the pain of a paperweight.
I want to drop you, smash
you into a thousand million
little reflective pieces, but it
doesn't matter, not really.
the rorschach of broken glass,
I'll still find your face. the
eyes, mostly. that's what got me.
the dark, endless abyss of them.
I see them in my sleep sometimes,
see the way you used to look at me
when I close my eyes. it's a
unique kind of pain, somewhere
between the sharp sting of a paper cut
and getting annihilated by a bus.
there's no being free of you.
there's no escape. I want one. I want
to let go. I want to hit the bottom,
but I'm so scared there isn't one.
you don't want it anymore, but
I'm so scared that my love begins
and ends with you, and you hold
onto it, greedy like a toddler with
a fistful of sweets. for you. for no
one else.