"By February I would be gone” I said..
as the weight of my shoulders started to fade
Tried to believe a reason to stay,
but it did not last long.
while I repeatedly listened to
"Sleeping in" by The Radio Dept.
I looked at the window and started mumbling those words,
"I Know it's not my place" as I wept in the backseat like a baby.
A display of uncompleted poems stacked in my room
diaries covered with dust
and my lungs filled with rust
and maybe I'm just a person to waste your time with and nothing more.
This vault never been easy to be solved.
most of the paradox were an illusion to the minds.
Their faces change as they bullshit their way out through their teeth.
I bit my tongue so hard it got tangled up.
Blood vessels and solid iron
they remind me of grief and love
same taste yet different substance.
Hundreds of papers scrapped by an outrageous burst,
but the ink always find its way to write your name.
Throughout our conversations, they seem scripted like a talking machine only answering what you want to hear.
Comes within a distance from an empty line
If i don’t hear it, it might go away
but the closer I get, the more I lose its noise.