I move with one, obtuse for two. You and I, used to be, too. Do you understand how in love I am with you? I move, I shake, I rumble, strike and tumble. My rage becomes this then done. I walk with anger and my fists clench tight. You and I, it was only “might.”

Hide under sheets, people lie next – I bleed. My wounds fail to show as I hold my coat close. You’ll never see how they treated me, as I’ll never let anyone in, at least that close again.

I look at the sky. I want to die. It opens, I see the eye – remember my grave and hope for the day I won’t think of your face. I lust for grace, to feel the bass of existence, for it to create distance.

Next time I’ll listen, at least for a minute. Follow the motions and let go of moments that weren’t meant for me – or to be.