reconcile

if only i could just slow down -

i would not mind
panicking here in the safety of your home
no mother, no father –

brother irreversibly stoned.

it's just the emptiness
of this residence
that makes me feel it's just you and i

playing house,
subconsciously recognizing that
we both never had real homes
though it's not so charming
while disaster is clawing at your bones.

you're still not whole, boy

but with your pseudo-confidence

you have an inconceivable way of making my confessions

fall apart right at your feet.

my downfall,
we are invincible
and you're just praying to a God you don't believe in.

"you've got those tired eyes.

all the time."