True.

I fight it.
I beg and plead for it to
Leave me alone.
I don’t need or want you here.
Stay out of my house.
I’ve done fine without you
For this long.
You’ve had chances and they’ve ended in:

A) Empty beds
B) Late nights
C) hospital visits
D) All of the above

No more chances.
I’m comfortable here.
I know what to do here.
But,
At the end of the day,
I just want to be in love.

Tape 1

Woke up to
The bright flash
From a dead heart wanting
To make something
From
Nothing.
She used to be beautiful
In the same way I used to be
In
Control
Of
My
Emotions.
The sunlight through
A grayscale sky
Or
Vice
Versa.
How do I explain
Where I left all of the bodies
To the police when
They find
Me?
Its inevitable.
They will
Find
Me
Faster than I
Ever could.
Probably because I want to
Be
Caught.
Right?

Mother and Son

You never say sorry on the weekend when you get too drunk with all your best friends. You missed my phone call, I know that, you told me, but I’m tired of sleeping alone in this bed. So, I’m leaving, and don’t say goodbye because I know that you’re full of shit.

All those bottles of wine, I don’t think you realize how disheartening it is to love you. I spend every waking moment worried about who may be kissing you back because I know it’s not me, thinking back. So, I’m leaving, and don’t you dare cry because I know that you’re full of shit.

Your face stays the same so I can never tell when you’re lying through your teeth. We play this game so constantly that I should know that I can’t be sure of anything and you’re stumbling now, over constantans and vowels and all the pronouns you throw around…I’m leaving, so tell “him” and “he” I say “hi”. I always knew that you were full of shit.

White

Sickly, the way the cold wind kisses your face, but it’s the only thing that shows that it loves you these days. Blankets, no thanks, it’s too hot inside when it’s cold outside and you really just need your space. You’ve got your TV and all those books you mean to read, but honestly, can we be honest here? You don’t mean to do anything. A constant accident. A constant toe to the doorframe. Its stings but you can’t get mad at anything. Lonely, but not really, you’ve got all those video games and you’re so fucking high all the time recently that you don’t even have the energy. Distance is a constant curse, but not in the way it used to be. Kiss like summer and sleep like fall. Kiss like a brick. Fuck, you just wish someone would kiss you at all.