and the bitter aftertaste of cigarette melts on my tongue
as dusk sets a deep azure against the lonely tower buildings
of a city i settled for.
i feel nothing tonight.
you don't want to be lonely as much i don't and we took each other in.
the preconceived idea that we'll save ourselves if we could be this
idea of another person with another name and a different face
more deserving of being cared for.
i daydream of escapism for brunch it's almost palpable.
it's on my tongue. an acid trip.
steer my afternoon thoughts.
i'll always be okay with where i am because i took myself here.
no, you don't understand: you know you never have to worry about me but
i want you to.
the nic wind up my lungs sometimes and i poison
all of my rationality.
i feel the gray matter rot.
spattering mush. filler cogs, don't need all that.
for someone who pines for love as much, i rarely pray for it.
i don't pray for love, i pray for lust.
for someone who wants a witness to testify for those
hushed mornings and to want to not want validations,
i play the part horribly.
so horribly.
i play the part, nonetheless.
