Flesh falls into
flesh, unattatched.
I won’t say the
aftermath isn’t easy,
doesn’t hurt, because God
made little

white nightgowns to numb
the ideas of hands
and legs and mothers
and babies and leaving

and the art of forgiving.

Art, and the
atlas of anatomy.

It's a choice to ambulate through the head and the heart
And out of this place all at once,
To ridden your riddle, relentless, like the rock that you are.
It's a choice, to plan the path that you pull us down, together,
leaving any help far back behind the hurdle.
It's a choice to end there, unattatched, in the thick of the thunder.
You chose my place, caught in the cold, cloudy and confused,
without a hope or  heart, a dream or destination.
It's your preference, not my choice.

I wonder why your schedule is never clear
Especially because it was last year
So please darling tell me
When did you get so interesting behind my back?

I wonder why you don't talk anymore
Especially with someone so sure
They would spend their life with you
When did you get so unattatched?

I wonder why you don't hold me anymore
Especially when it's the cure
To my anxious pain in my chest
But you say you're doing your best.

I wonder why you don't love me anymore
I wonder why you don't care anymore.
If you get frustrated everytime I am upset,
Then you won't like what happens next.

If I rip apart my skin
Then I would call you
And beg you to tell me
why.