Why does my heart burn when I see the manuscripts of your memory. Why aren't you gone like your thoughts of me, tossed to the corner as I'm drowning in my own insanity. Burning up as I fear of anything happening, wanting to dose myself in gasoline to flare up and swell. Over shadowing the ones around me as I roar loudly the cries I held inside, belching the heated poetry that I kept frozen in time. The tinkering melting from the stone cold belly of my soul deep inside. My morality apart of the fatalities that were smothered alive. My conflicting complaining another victim from the fight, dead inside as my hallowed out eyes stare at screen of our smiles from the day I lost you for apart of my life. Only to come back with your arms open wide, better then before but I still shattered as crack in pipes. Filling up my cup to the time where we slept the entire time we were with each other, you and I. Embarrassed to say you were special in my life, to say you were right. How good it might make you feel to hear it in your mind, that this is about you and not some other up-tight, broken down, fruit fly that wanted a piece of the pie. Well you'd be right if I was the pie, but we both know I'm much lower in gods eye. All these words coming from a absurd, sleep deprived, crazed guy.
