I Follow With My Eyes 'Till They Crash
The smoke burned my eyes.
I sat in the car,
the cold leather branding me; bitch.
the stereo cradled what little emotions i could feel,
and attempted to nurse a tear from my eye.
The smoke burned my eyes.
Appendages numb from emotion,
numb from the frigid night,
i slid out the door,
and headed inside.
My fleshy hand grasped the icy door knob,
and i looked back at you.
In a beat,
I'm lying in your bed.
I'm cocooned inside hundreds of comforters,
but my body is mirroring my soul,
and i'm radiating frigid emptyness.
My eyes are closed;
searching for an answer,
Prentending to not be there,
pretending to not think.
pretending i can deal,
pretending i'm okay.
pretending to be alive.
pretending to be dead.
My mind is chaotic,
using, abusing, over analizing thoughts,
over thinking,
overloading.
hours go by and i don't even look at you.
i don't even touch you.
I'm lying on the edge,
because the last thing i want to do is make you uncomfortable,
uneasy.
even if it makes me uneasy, uncomfortable, unwanted.
it's okay.
it'll be okay.
i'm okay?
i'm fine?
then in a blind fury, it's black.
my eyes open,
and i see myselfholding him.
I jut away,
snapping my arm back,
because all i do is fucking things up.
if he wanted to be close, he'd hold me.
if he wanted-
and i'm out again.
I wake, and find myslf writing a blog, getting dressed
and getting out.
Matty B.
