C h a r a d e

Can this charade come to a fucking end?

Can we both say what we want to hear?

Existing is fucking miserable without you.

I know it is for you too.

(Albeit, your life is trying to convince me otherwise)

I can sense it in my stomach,

Whenever my presence

Drags itself

On hands and knees

Across your mind.

I can only imagine the anguish your body goes through.

A minute never passes

When you aren’t on mine.

Could you

Pick up the phone,

Or a fucking pen

And

Say something.

Say anything.

Sure,

I know how to use a phone.

Or write a fucking letter.

This game we are playing takes patience.

You are the cat,

I am the mouse.

If you hate me, that is fine.

I am beginning to come to terms

With that thought

As I type this out.

Hearing those words

Drift from your lips,

Will surely be a tough pill to swallow.

Thankfully,

I do not have twenty more.

I’d swallow those too.

Since you left,

I have been trapped in this nightmare.

A nightmare taking place in a forest

Drowning in snow.

My compass is broken.

My map torn to shreds.

The footprints I have left,

Are beginning to fill in.

Whenever I call your name,

There is nothing.

Nothing but the echoing silence of being alone.

So, I continue walking circles of this obscurity.

The beating of my heart,

Is nothing more than a cruel farce.

All it is doing is taking up space in my chest.

Pumping my frame

With oxygen rich blood is secondary.

Which means all this shit is pointless,

Since you aren’t here with me.

If I must continue to endure this Hell on Earth,

Then you may as well banish me to the second circle.

Where the souls that gave their life for love

Are cast away

For the rest of eternity.

It seems proper for me

To walk amongst the hapless martyrs

That believed love was worth dying for.

Because I cannot

Keep living a life

Where acting like not having you

Is something I should accept.