This block that’s been haunting me I finally know what it is It’s not that my thoughts have ever ceased to exist (no matter how hard I wish) My truth Has never been poetic. My 4 shots of honesty Are tucked under unclean bed-sheets Collecting dust Because I haven’t found a soul With good enough reason to trust
I work with formulated brushstrokes My polished softer madness Because I’ve been told that This much eye contact makes you Uncomfortable That sometimes I say the things that you didn't want to (or know how) to hear not sweet enough for you to swallow So shove it down my throat with a gleam in your eye you gloat like you actually think you’ve solved my mystery
I have covered up every last shadow of sincerity every vicious glimmer of your fingerprints marring the fabric of my skin my canvas my natural form is your sin
I shudder to think That I’m waiting For my censored text to be read Waiting for repercussions Of wounds that I’ve already bled My truth Is that I blurred through the boundaries Between memories and lies That I often can’t remember What I made up and why there was so much to cover up with false nostalgia
my heartache is that there’s no logic behind that no reason to forget how to feel to go three days with my eyes glazed until I can grasp on to what's real a patched up framework of sane and I want to see blood to feel purpose for pain
Every time my tremors Shake in new directions I want to cry because That’s just one step further away from perfection Playing pretend Was just imagination until it was dysfunction and I set fire to my lungs Because no matter what I was never good enough
I choke on my breath And the burn of swallowed blood too warm out of place like a breeze to the bone Dripping past the place that Your name once called home I still visit The grave of a legend In my body So heavy with the weight Of lives I never lived
It was never like The words I so hopefully drowned in The promises that my fears were unfounded That no one could really Be alone Not like this Not like Being left to remember your kiss Not like Nail marks in the palms of clenched fists Not like fading in and out of dreams Asking myself Which reality is this? Untangling from cold sweats With the ringing in my ears Reminding me ruthlessly That god ****** I’m still here And you’re gone
I hate that “I miss you” Is mistaken for cliché But it’s my truth It’s my indescribable My engulfing My around every corner Over and over Your absence impacts like a train stolen months dripping in honey sweet hope we were my first us it's hard to find salvation when your foundation gives up
My anger Is sharp breaths It tastes like ***** coming out my nose Splashing against my skin It burns a little like Bee stings Coming up my throat And a whole lot less Than the loneliness
That vacant isolation That booms so stubborn Trying to heal from numb Reminding me that Summer by summer I become something That I wont be willing to save. At this point I'm not sure what I crave. it feels like thunder on the horizon of my intangible you are so much more than a metaphor for how perspective is flammable but my story was never about you