Final Call

"I must not let this get to my head" I repeat to myself over and over again. These words will carve out the remainder of what I feel for you and let them loose on the tubes. These are search dogs, hunting for any hope to come back starved. This is truly the beginning of the end. Maybe there is no hope at the end of the rope. I'm hanging on to your words like a noose for my head. Your heart warms up the inside of my bed. I'm crawling into the dreamscape of my heartache hoping to find vindication, but all I will ever feel is the absence of motivation and my broken heart.

It's not about the feeling anymore, it's about the lack of. It's about my resentment growing higher and my desire to shove these hollow words back down your throat. Give me something to break. I want to drown the whole world. I want to break a million mirrors and pray for bad luck. I feel like a sinking ship without an anchor. I feel hopeless. I feel needless.

These images don't make sense, just like any of your words. Maybe I should stop to try again, but I'd be fed to the wolves. Everyone has it wrong. When will you realize that your heartless lover will never care enough for your heart itself? He doesn't care, and soon enough I won't either.

Who am I kidding? This is my curse. This is my sentence. This is the time I'll serve, forever folding into the cards you laid down. Thunder struck my brain and laid over the most eloquent and calculated plan to build - and then break your heart. I hate how honest you've been. Your words will hang my head. I only want to sink into your eyes and drown in miserable ignorance - but ignorance is bliss, as they always say. The poet comes to life to let you know that you've broken his heart and let him down. It's over now, and he was ready to give in his life on the ground for you. I was ready to give anything up for you.

I want to hate you and never see you again. I want to forget you and never feel this pain. I don't ever want to know things got this way. I don't ever want to know I felt the same.