Project #1

Project #1

A Poem by PoeT4994

Great minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, small minds discuss people-Eleanor Roosevelt

I didn't know how to tell you the day I stopped caring...

I broke my nerves against the ground like a bottle hoping there would be something more inside,
it hurt walking the glass over to you.
I pulled the past from what was left of my step and hoped you'd see it too.
I opened a patch in my gullet and told you this is how it bleeds...
If I were a black hole and sucked in this world with me my event horizon would be the day you decided I wasn't what you need....



Well I've got a hole in my heart the size of a day, and this pain, I swear it won't start until you say it's OK.
I've spent over 4,380 nights wondering how long it's going to take to be a man worth trusting.
Trying to figure out if I could be honest enough for someone to trust me with building them a house made out of bone and if I'd ever be strong enough to carry you on my back even when we don't have that home.

And now I'm here, with a jaw drop full of shotgun shell amazed at how many times I committed to killing myself just to get here and it's getting harder and harder to drag it with me.
Girl this anchor has grown too much rust it's startin' to look like a hardwood floor.
I'm sick of walking on the things that hold me down it's cold against my feet.

But one day I decided it was heartless to hope to never wake up from sleep.
It's like Dan Smith said,
we all write songs about life, we just sing them different you sing the words but you don't know the song and you expect us all to sing along,
how selfish.
We all break down and play bloody knuckles with love notes just to help fight this strife, how helpless.
We all cry, we are oceans, there is too much water in these bones, if I wasn't busy drowning I wouldn't of dealt with this.

So here it is...

You remind me of the brick dust blowing down a persons speech pattern.
I've grown twin tower lungs and I carry too many dead breaths.
They jump from me.
It's why I speak hastily sometimes.
It's why I feel I don't have enough time turned back in this watch,
this watch that's not there,
I don't keep mine or care because every day you remind me of how finite we are and honestly, God, I'm scared.

I've bare knuckle bomb plotted the panhandle and woke up with a fist full of rubble.
Holding onto all of the reasons why I need to get away from you.

And I've built tanks in my heart valve with enough force to level the city in our bodies.
Heating up with suppressed and probably inept anger.

And broke down the bridges in my finger tips so I don't have to be the one reaching out to others.
Wondering why this relationship is more like a highway and a bike lane instead of a two way street.

I didn't know what to say to you the day I decided that it was a lie every time you said you loved me.


© 2012 PoeT4994



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Added on January 15, 2012
Last Updated on January 15, 2012