Your intrigue has been the thrill of my life, but
Your apathy is killing me, does it bother you
That I walk circles around the objects in my life
You provide the fuel and ill fan the flames
I seem to remember you saying as I sit here, shivering
Amidst this blurry haze of ashes and memories, staring into your eyes
As you look down upon me, from across these infinite lies that span
The gaps between us
Time slows down around that moment of defiance
You know the one, immediately preceding that other moment
The begrudging acceptance, of what you don’t really want
Like, what’s that smell, is my nose playing tricks on me again
Deceived by myself, I guess it’s not your fault after all
But I’m usually wrong it seems, especially if you’re believing, this
Windowless hole, where I take my dinner, your lies have grown salty
As of late, but to save your feelings I’ll ask for a second helping, and I know
What you are you thinking, when you attempt to digest
this collaboration of inconsistencies
This collection of commandeered conscious conclusions
Can I digress?