I've never felt so cold as when you taught me how to feel- As each stagnant second pushes The great pulsating vibrato of life Further and further into Yesterday, Until nothing is left but memories And stale tap water in a ceramic coffee cup: The trembling scale by which we measure happiness That is only felt after it becomes a memory. Who determines the expiration date Of emotion? Your warm pulsating skin And the hottest month in August Can only be felt in photo albums And subtle murmurs only heard Past 3am. I never meant to get this caught up In life- Breathing in the bitter reality Of fragmented testimonies Warning me of what's to come And fragility of time. Selfishly I **** the marrow out of Every fleeting moment, Scattering the bones across the graveyard of my unrequited mind- A self proclaimed martyr of suffering And good intentions. The confinement of my sordid thoughts, Condenses reality, Into the tangible. Freedom is only felt In the aftermath of an earthquake- Crumbled barriers now bear remnants of security. Is this how it is to feel? The nerves in my finger tips Are hot and trembling, as I trace the Faded outline of something too real To ever be strained out into the world Of the living. Time and time again, I remind myself Of the ineptitude of anything That isn't born Within the sacred hours of Insomnia. A distorted image scatters across my empty mind, Casting shadows on the times where Nothing mattered beyond the moment. Life breathes in and out To the rhythm of the broken record That we relentlessly cram Into our vacant hearts, As if trying to drown out the hollow drone Of the love Manufactured in Sunday night sitcoms and materialized on Broadway. Simple actors, we betray our inner wishes, And sell them in the form of words To a greedy audience, yearning to be reassured That they aren't the only ones who mistake pain for something Pure. Time and time again, I repeat my cynical mantra Through the motion of my feet upon the ground; Because, history repeats himself Until emotion can no longer tread The freezing waters of existence, Leaving nothing but a trace of Something that we foolishly lament with the names of a lover, And drape with the revealing veil of time- Mistaken for the truth, And worshiped at the alter of God.