(I think we're close enough)
smellin your breath from behind the latched door

(I wanna lock in your love)
bleedin all over the ******* floor

(Now I've got you in my space)
wishin you wouldn't carry a weapon anymore

(I won't let go of you)
needin a meaty man to shield me from downpour

I would be lying
if I told you
that you were special to me,
because whether its
you
or
him
holding me in the earliest hours
of the morning
the only thing that matters to me
is that
I am being held,
love to me is much less
significant
much less personal
than it used to be
if its anything to me at all
its feeling desired

It's really hard not to talk to her when I can't sleep.

I'm always fine during the day. Usually I can distract myself then. But as soon as my mind's empty. It's the first thing. I try to think of the horrible things she did to me, but it doesn't make me feel any better. It doesn't make me miss her less.

It just makes me want to live forever in those good moments we shared. Indefinite bliss. The things that kept me hanging on, when I should've let go.

The smile, the way her nose pinched. The way she liked certain things just the way I did, and for the same reasons. The roller coaster rides. The times she would open up to me and let me in. Her soft skin, her messy hair, the way she looked when she woke up, and when she was asleep. Her small hands, her defined back, the way she would lean into me when she was sad. I liked the way she wore my t shirts, and when she would lend me her eyes. I just don't know if I was the exception, or if I'm just another guy.

Should I care? Probably not. Not now. Not after everything that happened, but I do, and I know that I will. No matter how big that demon is inside me, the love that I hold will always be stronger. It feels like there's a holy war inside of me, and I don't know whose side to take. I'd like to believe that light prevails, but does that mean it is my fault when love fails?

Look,
The day will come where it takes a mortician
to show you there are worse things
  than your depression
Death or dismemberment
It's not just your falsified insurance claim
The day you fell to your knees and wept
  over the great pacific ocean
In the city of angels you were humbled by its majestic potion
The message in a bottle you never sent
Your laziness allowed the entire ocean to be swept
  carelessly away for your lack of devotion
The day you spoke about your loneliness
sitting in an upright-coffin-confession
Adjacent to the man who ***** children
  to make himself feel... more... man.
Literally, I meant, he felt those young men.

Did that yet distract your pain?
Remember that day
that day you cried to your doctor
  Elaborating about your back and lack of motion
She’d been crying
She was trying to comprehend
hospice for her cancer-ridden husband
  Off to die, he was sent
Oh, that's exactly what it meant.

But, oh, that little tiny microscopic pain!
Then there was that day you complained
To your flat-mate about your job being so mundane.
  As she spoke of her boss firing her,* post-*****
To avoid the human resource claim
You were hell-bent over your issue…
As she went insane.

Remember the day you went "insane" to your best friend
About your second wedding being destroyed by the rain
Your bestie was a man who had never felt the embrace
      of love
           affection
                 or pain
The ability to cherish
The passion and pain of a woman,
      he had paralyzed legs,
           no woman had ever loved him
                 Because he could never provide ***.
And YES you booooooo-hoo-ed
Over all your costume-esque dresses getting wet
Whats next?
You complain about the rain...
  A magical natural scene
But LOOK,
You've never once tried
to see that persons suffering.