You've Had A Strange, Tiring And Lasting Impression On Me

The summer insufferable I have left behind coughs like a corpse in the dead steel of night.

An entrapment of my own mind bleeding insanity is all I have left to offer.

I destroyed your coffin lined with grass, I buried your morning cups of coffee in a sun-beaten hole.

You've caught me groping in the dull night for something to make me whole.

Are we going to play this game again? are we going to stand passively at streetlights and hope for a car to never stop?

I am acting out on you. I stand on a poorly built stage offering my guiltless services to the bores of the world.

You made me eat these books, I taste ink it's grotesque I spit and darkness drips from my mouth.

You're forcing me into a runic chamber I have no answers to, keys were never made for these doors, fire cannot start in a world with no air.

It isn't cold where I am because I'm afraid darling that it isn't anything here.

It isn't worth a goddamn thing for me to tell you what I've got locked up here.

Tired is a lame sort of drunk, I'm busy pretending, I've had years of duplicit practice I'm good at it.

Can you look out your window and see the stars of the east? because somehow I doubt that they're the same stars I see.

Good riddance, they've had enough of my foolish imagery and longing for the two of us to be together together.

They always knew what would become in the end— what slavish rituals I would put myself through just to get back to you.

I can never start without the will to finish and dammit babe I meant to finish every spark of a dream that I had when it came to kissing your smile and forcing your hand to see what you really thought of me.

But that's all vanished without regard, no bother, and don't mind me asking but is this the sort of thing that you were afraid of?

The illuminated hallway that puts me in a hungry trance to stay, stay, stay awake and carry a massive pile of books and problems to keep me empty company?

And the reflection in the window, keeping myself in view as I continue somehow to expect to hear from you, is this the pathetic living nightmare— and I use that word freely because it truly is a wasteland of the night here— that you so desperately tried to keep me away from?

You know, this is helping no one and I feel stopping is the coward's choice.

I feel that this is a test. I'm biting down on my pencil for the pain.

I'm inspecting every word I've ever written looking for where I went wrong and who has my skeleton key and where I can find the magical combination of words that changes the mind of the world and sends you dancing back into my arms.

Well I know it's hard to believe, but I was stupider then than even now, nothing left to be done.

All letters end here, all fuses sizzle out at once.

I've lost you, it's dark and darker every time I look back and I cannot quit.