I think its time for me to go.
you tear into the glass screaming you feel nothing but the taste of last night crawling back up your throat and then haphazardly you swallow it back down
my tears intoxicatedly stumble down my cheeks fighting to spell out I'm so so sorry and I wish I was successful that night I tried to die when I was 18--what am I doing here?
your left hand is dripping with leftover anger and a tangible nudge that maybe you didn't understand quite what was going on
my maybe tells me if I finish the warm kinetic colored bottle of wine that I will flirt with feeling better for at least two minutes and that's enough for me to do it
your adrenaline take a match to your left big toe and tells you that you are worth nothing. how could you be with billions of humans living on this earth, each with differing spheres of consciousness?
a white film creeps over my eyes but doesn't quite make it low enough to mute my screams, I love you I love you I love you
are you listening? I have liquids escaping every crater on my face
somewhere sometime that doesn't really exist we started to settle down and drone out drone down drown out and eyes glued shut hearts still racing each other around the track. Is this the best it gets?
I think it's time for me to go.