you're just a shadow of the past that still possesses me
you are
the trigger on a gun that
always misses whatever is left
of my brain

you are the past
and you are beautiful, and
i wish i could still love that fact
i wish upon so many stars
that so many must have fallen by now

with the grace of Lucifer
with the honesty of an angel

you became
a playbook for the future
as the girl that loved me
danced in silent fields
and picked me up from hospitals
as you just went to them
in pretty, light-sprinkling EMS vehicles

i'd like to really hate you
or the fact that i write
so much goddamn poetry around
the loss of you
that my readers are getting bored

but there was a night
we slept in the bed of your F-150

and you were constantly sick,
trying to get off heroin
and nobody knew why i loved you
and we watched bats run across the sky
until we slept in your garage on
old mats for water parks
we never we'd never afford
to go and see

but, you know
it's good to love what you lose
and i lost you
and i'm happier now, unless you're dead
then i'll be sadder
but i found what i was silently looking for all those years

some piece of peace
that was already with me
adorned with laurels and loveliness

too pretty for me
too perfect

but i wonder if you still have dreams about me
in the silence of whenever you sleep
because you never leave me alone

not in hell, where you took care of me
or purgatia, where you kept me alive

and definitely not in any paradise.
well, we're even.
in the end i think we mostly end up
happy and broken hearted.

why'd you even try?

sometimes Colin it's just...truth.