the scent of depression must be strong because he told me he smelled like me hours after i was gone, that he could feel the clouds i left with him and the burden of my worries was too heavy too  bare for too many moments at a time, that he could feel the sores upon my knees and that the rips in my skin left him cold in the winter, which never ended because biology never will, and he reminded me of all the dreams we never spoke of and all the times he woke up knowing i had done the same, that the urgency he felt, the tears he tried to wipe away, they were mine alone and not for sale but he bought them any way, he told me that he had purchased this for the meaning of salvation, that he planned to make due on his promises, to follow through, to go farther than my weak legs could carry me, and then he told me of his time in hell and his time with the devil himself, he told me that he knew my aches like no other and at the same time he could never find the source of the ****** knuckles he kissed so much, the ones he would wrap with utmost care and caress until i fell asleep, he told me that this was what it felt like to be in love with me, that he couldn't bare the storm, but he wanted to anyway, he told me that death in my embrace was something too precious to be given up on, that rewards only came with sacrifice, and that one day his woes would fall on me

i am sitting on a block of cement not meant for thought-out sentences or gracious gift-giving the sky is dark and the air is dry but we are all bundled up affected merely by the color of the hidden sun i wonder when the time will come that appearance is ******* by logic we should all know by now that grey means more than shivering and that jackets cannot keep the hurt from seeping in i remember when there used to a layer between children and the world we were hidden behind our walls like the moon behind the light of the daylight atmosphere we were safe yet had no idea no concept no understanding of the amount of protection that innately came with being small i yearn for that net keeping me afloat
you are gone now and i am alone in a land that i have yet to learn the paths of i do not know how i will survive in this place when all i have is my two feet and this is a town full of climbing upwards you were my only mechanism for keeping out of the arms of creatures waiting in the depths of my reality i do not question your loyalty but i question my own sanity as i look at you
we are not sheltered here and it is time to leave this sorry excuse for a home

cold feet
bundled tightly
with the hopes
and dreams
of those
who once
believed

i am no longer
of this
classification

i know
now
that there is
something -
someone
that i am meant
for -
someone that
i am meant to
keep breathing for

cramped hands
shake with relief
from
no longer
grasping air
so tightly
with no reprieve
or reason
at all

is this how
we
are all meant
to live

somewhere in this
too-tightly
packed chest
of mine
there is a new conductor
steering us to
safety

the only question
though
that still remains
is

are these
new tracks tread
by me
or the person
i cannot
tame

my words feel like death,
not physically,
they aren't sick or bleeding out,
but mentally.
they haven't made sense in a long time,
letters all jumbled,
missing apostrophes.
i guess this is an example of a writer
getting too involved in
their stories.
i don't belong in here.
let me leave.
i can give you more,
be more,
do more,
i swear.
and now i am yelling,
screaming,
and my fists are punching air
and making contact,
touching something that isn't real
for the millionth time.
i just want so much.
i don't want to be here,
let me leave, please.  
the tears are washing off the blood
but that only makes the bruises more visible.
my words are blending together now.
i can't think straight.
grab the bottle, ******.
get me out of here.
i am going to leave.