The Truth Embarks a New Beginning

"And Just Like Knowing..."

and just like knowing how you'd drench the coffee table in gallons of Lysol, you never liked sticky situations.

and the germs which you extinguished with shots of Windex, amounted to life.

Because life, in and of itself is sticky.

the tides carry streams of plastic while seeming to glisten under the yellow shine of the sun, the birds carry disease upon their wings, soaring above the sick, and hands that once caressed every ounce of my body are stained with the touch of women who came before, during, and after.

And just like knowing how you'd self-medicate every inch of your displeased personality, you never were genuine.

and the stench which intoxicated and sent a rush of ecstasy throughout your body amounted to pain.

Because pain, in and of itself is indefinite.

the trees rustle with anticipation while whispering a cautionary tale to one another, the skies are coated in the blood of the hymnal of mistake, and words that once escaped your chest and had meaning rest upon your crusty quivering lips.

And just like knowing how you couldn't handle being left alone with yourself for too long, you inevitably self-isolated.

and you'd drive for hours, taking hits of whatever could lessen the ache in your chest.

Because isolation, in and of itself was fulfilling.

the conversations with yourself were practice rounds for the jeopardy you'd play with your friends, the music became a written apology letter carrying with it the idea that any mistake should be forgiven, and self-hatred became a concept you could no longer face while standing in front of a mirror.

and just like knowing how you'd shake sometimes, the long hair and brown eyes became a metaphor.

Because the idea of perfection lied within rows of straight teeth and flesh sucked into bones.

But that very same idea deteriorated when the sticky, numbness-seeking, touch-starved boy slit away his very own moral compass and transformed into a long lost sentiment.