Who knew that you could be the neurotoxin I wanted so badly?
Slowly devitalized with your recherché guise and
strung up from your pedestal, that I so foolishly
mistook for a soapbox, without feeling a thing.
I remember thinking that for a martyr
you were awfully quiet.

And while you choke on words that mend,
so beautifully, what I didnt know was a wound
Ill run to the places that we died.
Mistakes of who we used to be,
will haunt us to our graves.
Sweet asphyxiations, on tasteless lexicon.

I hated your silent treatments when they involved
hearing you moan his name.
Even so, I find myself falling asleep to the white noise
on the B side of this tape, where your voice used to
assure me of our love.

I guess your words just lost their luster,
and I just lost my nerve.

09/09/2012

Author's Note: A work in progress. I would appreciate some constructive criticism.

Posted on 04/11/2012
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