fake friends

your stare has a near planetary pull, 

beckons me in and destroys. 

i cannot yet be your lover, 

lacerated by the touch of your fingertips. 

your kiss leaves me weak, 

i crumble and cave to your will. 

you are all there is, all there was, 

and we are imprisoned by all there could be 

is it terror? or comfort, after each revolution

at the realization that the cycle has not been broken?

7 years, staying up all night,

saying words that mean nothing to people that mean nothing.

constant motion but never progression,

counterfeit emotion, temporary obsession,

indie shuffle surf rock sang us to sleep

wearing dark red night caps

you and i were imperfect, effortlessly so,

and i lay forever fascinated by that.

now our paths only cross by accident,

eyes avert from across the room

as if you are afraid your glance will reveal

something you are not willing to admit you feel.

my mind wanders further than i’d like,

down beverly, norwalk, and floral some nights.

you have painted me to be someone

who you allow yourself to hate

and i doubt you’ll ever give me

a chance to explain,

but that’s the cost of carelessness

do not hesitate to prevent hurt,

even when that means hurting someone

to save them from greater pain.

there is no sense in avoiding the inevitable

for the sake of your own temporary comfort.

no sense in prolonging a process

out of fear for the end.

would you rather give someone a hug and a paper cut,