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.