Last week
the clocked ticked towards an
ungodly hour as the memories of you seemed to write themselves
in bold.

The fluorescent kitchen lights seduced me into believing they were diamonds,
swimming through my veins and
getting my every desire.

You once told me our lips were bridges and no matter where I am,
I can't seem to forget just how beautiful it once was to just
collapse into you.

You did this.
You put this hope back into me.
You seduced my dark days,
made them arch their backs and grab fistfuls of hair.

This must be the heaven of hell.
The barren place where my detached soul and
reignited passion
sneak off to make out under the stairwell of my old junior high school.

I had been safe and naive.
I thought words held meaning far more than just that moment,
and the future didn't look like the rough hands of a suicidal storm.

I had promised myself that I would never make that mistake again.
That is until your inevitably grey eyes penetrated my doubts and made room for trust.

It's the moving towards insanity that matters,
the becoming of something unimaginable;
Beyond false promises made with wondering eyes.

It's the space between a shot glass and my burning throat,
between your loaded lies
and my gullibility.

The shortest distance between
two poisons is a mangled
nightmare spooning me to sleep.