Alex, tell me what makes you sad.
I make you sad, the sunset, the shift in winds.
This world was built to cause sorrow,
who knew it was so focused.
Clever little inventions,
emotions,
situations,
relationships.
They rigged the game.
Better yet they watched while we rigged it ourselves.
Every chamber was loaded,
we just forgot we were the ones who loaded them.
Niceties hurt no one,
but they sting you to tears,
wasps from my heart to yours,
we’re both generous.
I sit miles away and assume consistency.
You sit in the same spot and demand depravity.
Let’s trade one liners and get too close again,
let’s sing songs we pretend have no pertinence,
then smile under our breath
when my forehead is pressed to yours.
You never grow up when you’re already old,
a child who threw on extra years by dramatizing.
I can blame the trauma,
the blunt rudeness bruising my ego.
What am I?
A distraction, no, those are brief,
though I’m not lasting.
I’m more like Cardiac Ischemia,
a reminder of bad habits.
I threaten alot of things, but your life wasnt one of them.
Toss around self-mutilation like a catch phrase.
You had bangs, I had hands, we were a perfect match.
Simplicity makes for perfection
but complexity is just so much more enticing.
I’ve done this before,
string words together with a thread of association.
A trailing, diminishing thread.
Stiched together enough times to be a ball of string
let’s pull eachother’s till we turn back into a mess.
