we fell apart in the worst ways. in unaccompanied silences and sizzling out cigarettes. i use to be the cigarette that hung from your smoky lips. you kept me tucked away in your shirt pocket, next to your beating heart. now you've stomped out the butt of the cigarette on the cracked pavement beneath your boots. at night only inches separate us, but without your arm slung around my waist we could have easily been miles away. our minds were on different continents, you wanted to be with her and i was still holding onto you by your belt loops. when you kiss my cheek (you stopped kissing my lips months ago) your lips are so dry you might as well slap me while you're at it. i once heard you whisper in your sleep i was posion ivy, i never said anything to you about those mumbled words. i was in a dilusion i'd dreamt it because you use to say i was your rose petal. i guess i've wilted into poison ivy, i blame your cigarette smoke; flowers need fresh air, yet you're the one that always makes the excuse of needing fresh air and not coming home till morning.
why don't you just fucking leave me already?
go to bed.
maybe neither of us leave because leaving would mean change and even if our minds are no longer joint tongues i still know you're scared of change. maybe you're just so use to being unhappy that feeling anything but terrifies you. when we walked down the streets you use to hold my hand too tight because you were scared you'd lose me within the crowd, but you haven't held my hand for awhile now. i think you're hoping i get lost by accident. maybe then you won't have to blame yourself and bury the guilt in your ashy heart. i saw blue skies in your eyes, but all you've ever seen in me was rainstorms and you're scared of thunder but haven't you heard that it's just god's heartbeat? last i knew you were religious, you use to argue with me about god (i don't believe). you use to argue with me a lot. you wouldn't let me walk to the bus stop alone because you worried about me being alone in this big wide world (we argued about this for hours; i was so late for work). now you don't even wake up in time to say goodbye. maybe it's better you don't. maybe when you finally say goodbye you'll be gone.
i came home to an empty bed.
i fell asleep in an empty bed
i woke up in an empty bed.
we kept trying to swim in each others lungs but were both drowning. you took flight (in health class they taught us humans face the flight or fight reaction) and you never fought for me so i don't know why i expected anything different. you left to find your blue skies in this rainy world.
