paperweight
these are the years that we are surfacing.
wearing the edges thin
and paperweighting them.
everything is picking up and
pulling down.
everything is tangling and
i am caught in between
your breath and misery.
i aquaint well,
at least thats what they tell me.
so unhappily personable,
so into this disease that
i can no longer make out the tracing
of lines that we created
when we were stuck underneath,
still trying to break the surface.
still trying to love one another.
i hate the way life bleeds.
it bleeds all of me
and leaves me stuck in the
inabilty to think,
to speak,
to get away-
from this,
from you...
from this fucked up, whatever you want to call it,
that we have become.
i am just glad that finally
i snapped before reality folded
and captured me a lifetime
to die in your arms.