your pride's such an ugly thing, the
heroism my biggest fault - and maybe i'd
call this a tragedy if it wasn't so damn
fictional.

duct tape pesters screams until they
level down to whimpers; bangs and
shotguns heard through your bedroom
window. cigarettes deny denial, so face
the truth and pretend you don't care,

and yeah - maybe i don't have the right to
tell you how to feel or how to think, or
how to breathe and how to dream but you sure
as hell ain't fine and i sure am worried - excuse
my concerns darling, i know they're unnecessary.

i'll send my regrets and you'll double back with
your apologies. i hope the needle doesn't hurt
and the white fits you perfectly. (insanity is nothing
shameful but you say: i am not-so-helpful.)

this is a story about escapism and failure,
i hope you don't forget - ever;

repeat the letters inside your head for fifty-eight
years, the walls read "there is no god here." i
understand you lost your faith and i've lost my shine.
wish we could rewind back in time.

"never mind the haste," you said,
"we got eternity to waste."

just don't open your eyes right?

-

-

an.
why'd you have to wake up and mess up?
i wanted to try something 'new', or something that rhymed, or something like that.