the sharp and almost painful
razor edge of glory
and a laugh skating down the lakes
of bitter tears,
adrenaline pushing you awake,
nights driving you insane.
closeness is such a pain
when you're feeling drained
when you think
you're dying
because nobody gives a shit.
and you are folding
crumbling in to yourself
like a card house
like a gambler who lost his mind,
sinner who woke by church.
there is no way to fix the past,
so you move -
but there is no promise,
no visa to heaven
stamped to your hand.
so you push, and you pull
and you stop.
...see, all the while
no one noticed your mess.
takes a second
to happen.
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