As I look into this curved plastic reflection of what seems to be my unrecognizable face, contorted into a swirling ray of colors that bounce back to my eyes and let my brain register them as a faceless being who I'd be ashamed to know, I have to wonder is it me im really looking at.
I love the idea of destruction. Ever since I was little I'd build up sand castles just to play war and be on the losing end of a catapult attack.
The thought that just at my finger tips I can break down something that's been built up in minutes or years, infatuates me.
Im absorbed into the idea of simplicity so I often sit in silence and let my ears draw in whatever it is that I want to hear and disregard the rest.
Im told that this pushes away everyone I love, I could care less I'd rather not hear them any way.
People say they set the world to flames just to see how it would burn. Im sorry but you were my world. My everything and I guess inside I just wanted to see ashes. Consequences were nothing but a lingering thought in the back of my head, and im sorry to say that I regret it.
I wish i had meant for it to go the way it did. Because then I'd be at peace and so would you knowing that it was over.
Now we go back and forth and I dont know what we are anymore. They say playing with fire will only get you burnt they never said it would burn others too.
I still love the thought of destruction but just like your love for me, its chased with hate for the decision of being in its company.
I can here in your voice the regret of ever talking to me in that art class. I never meant to treat you like a pass, only waiting to be crossed, tossed to the side like a basket ball, only used when it was convenient.
I could blame it on the pills and the buddah but what I did to ya was nothing short from abuse. I told you I loved you, you just were to distracted to see in my eyes that it was all lies.
Dogs bury bones, some say to hide shame. I have skeletons in my yard and i can hear them calling my name in the night. And I dont like what they have to say.
I had a dream last night. I couldn't recognize myself in the mirror but I had a gun to my head and you were with me. I looked to you for a reason not to pull but what I saw in your eyes was a movie of all the shit I did to you.
And I'd be damned if it didnt make me leap of the bridge.
They say you dont feel pain in a dream but as I laid on the floor surrounded in a pool of crimson ribbons looking up to you not a single tear flew. I felt my heart turn cold and blue I started to fall into nothing. You were growing yet fleeing from me but I seemingly didnt move.
Thats when I woke I got a text from you. Apperently I called you a few times last night and by the sight of the empty bottle my judgement was less than impaired. You wanted to know if I was still alive, I didnt respond it didnt seem right to lie.