As much of a person in the life business that I've tried to become,
I really can't deny that I feel like there's been such an extreme death.
Like, I can't just check my phone for things that you'll never say to me,
and I should really stop jumping every time that it rings because
waiting for your heart to start up again is like waiting for a drop
of my sanity in this world of hurt and numbed out feelings
that I wouldn't dare come close to touching anymore.
Somehow in the midst of a drought you created a pool of toxic waste
and maybe it was my fault because I was the one who felt anything in the first place,
but you left it there until it was the rotting mess of substance that still lives in my body because believe it or not,
some of us still need to drink in order to stay alive
in the midst of all of this chaos of a societal desert.
I gave you the last of any water that I would ever get and
you put it to use but the thing was,
it was all for you-
a fact that made you happier than I ever could have.
For some reason,
I was waiting for so long for that surprise factor.
With you I was spontaneous in my kindness,
somehow I never felt the need to hold back,
and I didn't even care enough to notice that my
eyelids were starting to feel like sandpaper
as I wouldn't see you for the mirage that you are
until long after it was too late to save myself.
You know, I had always admired armadillos,
I kind of wish that I hadn't become the shell of myself that I saw everytime
I would gladly inhale dust. or slowly down this
eerie black pool that I had left to drown my abandoned sorrows in.
I've been swimming in it for so long I stopped bothering to look at the tainted hue of my skin because I'm fairly certain that I've permanentally altered it beyond reapir.
And after finally calling after you one last time before you found your oasis,
I have the overwhelming urge to allow everything in my to dry out.
Maybe I'll meet a very nice cowboy
with an affinity for taxadermy and I'll be forever memorialized as a teddy bear.
And after a while of having been abandoned in this open range,
I thought that then would be the time to embrace
the optimism that I knew would never matter.
And I suppose that from the absence of you
will allow me to refurnish the home of my mind and I will never know
how you repaired yours, if you ever needed to at all.
I like to think that you did,
but like I said,
I'll never know.
Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.