I have pictured our apartment far too many times to ever say "we're done".

Hands should hold hands,
not the other person's throat.
We can do this.
I love you

I'm still holding, you're still pushing,
poems drowning me in pain,
you speak your problems in soliloquy,
but shatter silence in written phrase.
You told me, wounded and through tears,
that there was nothing I could do,
though I applaud at your careless dancing,
I'm an audience when you're blue.
And you have me on my knees,
when the tattered curtain falls,
how I wish to be beside you,
when the bitter sadness calls.
And I'm broken when you've spoken,
your kind words through white teeth,
as your poems start to unravel,
all the pain that lies beneath.

I miss your words.
They would make me feel loved.
I liked being the thought,
that you put into art.

You haven’t written in forever.
I miss it.
a lot.
And if you look back through your old poems, you see that they’re all blue.

Did I make you stop?

Fluorescent lights make the thoughts in my head look so jumbled on paper. I’m trying to clear my mind but it’s going faster than a bullet. There was red, and your face, and i thought that I scared you, like there was some hidden part of me that caused you to look at me differently. Then there was rage and open flesh and the tears of a mother, and that was the moment where I was at my lowest. Ever. Then there was street lights and oceans and pretending i’m fine, while knowing the outcome was far from good. Then there was green, and fear, and the shaking of my hands. If only my bandages could heal my heavy heart.

I said,
"There's more heart within this basement than within these hollow politicians,
whether it be a lot or a little, I know my songs can still make a difference,
we have the microphones and speakers, and there's distortion on our guitars,
My songs will make a difference. My songs will heal your scars."

And I've never heard truth ring so loud in my life,
these words pierced ears like the point of a knife.
I've been so lost in my rhetoric, so hesitant in my will,
now, my band is my weapon and my ammo is my skill.