Today we are all victims.
They said it was my fault
that the moon became so distant.
With all these thoughts of implosion,
I'm forever inclined to believe them.
I've been waiting out the sun
in an empty attempt to matter.
I'm just like them.
Throwing threats at windows,
my eyes become distracting
or distracted, if only in time,
I think they'll decode these messages.
If only in time.
They said I didn't care
but I guess that it truly depends
on how much iron can be detected
in the words I'm all to willing
to let spill out
like blood or coffee.
It's not always my fault
that there's never enough attention
paid to the mirrors.
I become everyone's whispers
and rumors and lies
and deceptions, based on a true story.
Today isn't very different
from every other day.
Today has just been documented.
If only I didn't feel so distant
like the moon or the stars.
If only I thought it mattered.
If only I wasn't so sure they didn't.
They said it wasn't their fault
that the sky became so pointless.
I wanted to be perfect
in ways they might understand.
My communication with the stars
just feels so empty
like me, on days when you're not
with me.
I'm just sick of displaying
all these open wounds
and emotions. This isn't art;
it's torture.
I keep watching as we always bend.
I laugh at notions.
I play with fire
and burn all bridges
because I can and because I want to.
I want you
to know who I really am.
Who I've sometimes always been.
I want it to matter,
if not make fresh dents
in the way you look at me
when you're laughing
and loving and all things beautiful.
I know how we transcend our bodies
because I've been here with you
as we felt things we didn't always say.
I owe you more than you realize.
Your words feel like bullets
when you speak of letting go
and I become breathless
and restless. And I'm sorry.
You always deserve more
than verse and division.
I don't think my words can move you
or even begin to make you understand
how it feels when you're missing
or missed.
This always gets personal.
I cannot feel complete
in fractions, in pieces,
in moments you gave me.
In love with the memories.
In love with the feeling.
In love. Just, in love.
Today, heart, we are all victims.
But at least you make me feel redeemed.