I will still be here,
unless you don't feel the need
to wrap yourself around emotion,
that will only pull you under

forgetting that deep breath,
gasping with a little death
words better left unspoken,
one moment dispels another notion

left sweat stained, maimed,
wrapped beneath the covers,
of this crooked bed,
watching the wallpaper peel
forgetting how to honestly feel,
how you never seem to be first

willingly drink another glass of wine,
just to blank out these words,
for another thousand empty moments,
or is that frighteningly absurd?

finding nothing in common,
within the complexity of you,
another arm reaches forth,
trying to rush and push through

these walls of silence,
how they resonate within me,
it takes years to twist the truth,
into palatable, little white lies

with each spring of your smile,
rather be alone for awhile,
in a place I can't forget,
in a situation where I will not fret

Never said this would be easy,
it takes years to unburden the truth,
years of shoveling the quips,
lost in an endless, regurgitating loop

mathiasthom
written 11/02/08