I am broken. I am sad. I am lost.
There you were, like a swift breath in my ear.
You said I am not fit for consumption but you still laid yourself to be sacrificed on my altar.
I drank of your blood from the greasy purple plastic cup.
I let you quench my thirst.
Then you spoiled and said again, ‘I am not fit for consumption’.
I was listening to you the first time, but this time I heard you.
I heard your soft voice whispering terrible things to my heart.
So, I am left only to imagine.
Wondering what you think and feel.
Knowing I will never think it or feel it from you again.
You took something from me tonight.
Or maybe I laid it at your feet
and it is still sitting there on the same marble step
where you have entered the holy cathedral
while I am left to wander the cobblestone streets
looking for the thing I left
in the places that I forgot where I left it.
Am I just too desperate for a reason that this meant something
other nothing?
Maybe. Maybe I was never in your heart to begin with…
After all, where would I have fit?
In some corner of the right ventricle in a place
where the dirty blood passes before coming clean.
Still, I can’t help but seek you out…to search for the real you
and to search for a meaning of you
so I can tell myself I am not the fool but I am the fool anyway
and there’s no escaping that sad and uneasy thought.
I am left with the harsh memories that relentlessly hammer recklessly in my head.
My mind hurts
and the painful memories slip easily into the cracks of a broken heart.
I am standing solid on a paper floor with tears softening the foundation.
Luckily, I don’t have far to fall. Luckily, there is always a bottom.
Dixie's Road Trip 