Burning Myself

Unreal

Her bones are broken, 

and hammers breaking all the pieces,

Two months and I'm dead,

and we're falling alive,

and she, me, knows how to believe,

I'm ashamed of all my feelings,

but its because I have suffered,

and his steady smile,

and I know how to believe...

We walk into a house,

but it's small and none of the lights are on.

Candles are the only things that produce light. There are people spread out on the floor,

on the couch,

some skattered on the stairs.

"Is this your place?" I ask Landon

He laughs, " Nah, I live in an apartment building, this is my buddy's place,

See that guy?" He points to someone with a button-up shirt that isn't buttoned, "Him."

"Does he have a name?" I smirk, 

"Yah, that's Trevor," he smirks back at me, his eyes piercing me,

"But I'm not letting you out of my site, you're my girl right now." He winks.

Oh, yes I am.

Everyone in the house is either talking quietly, relaxed.

Stoned-faced. 

Chilled-Out.

Emotionless,

just small smiles,

nothing dramatic.

I saw a wooden bowl on the coffee table full of white tablets. 

I knew now, everyone in the house was shit-faced to the max.

I saw someone in the corner in a ratty chair, smoking from a bong and blowing the smoke into some girl's face on the floor.

He passes the bong to her,

and she does the same.

I felt the effects of the room on myself.

I was a little high from the joint in the car that we passed back and forth,

but I was no-where's near this. 

And here I was, standing, ready to feel a mood,

And I fear is how I was living,

Confusing is what is real,

Crawling in my skin,

and these moods are unreal