a rock song is rolling in my ears like a landslide.
i look at the window and see
the drum kick the stones hitting the pavement and all the dirt to follow.
right at the end of the road
where foggy streetlights turn into thought,
you're alone
your head in your hands
grabbing your face at the base
squeezing your cheeks with your nails
scratching your eyes as if it could wipe the tears away.
it doesn't.
you don't want to know that.
a scream strangled by a groan
clutching your throat
choking you, invisible
the pain is the sharpest thinnest butter blade
cutting from under your tongue till your chest
slowly sliding hot and gliding
boiling blood circling around the steel
bruning your skin
red, silently
as you bend on your knees.
my skin is turning blue
and you're in my past,
you're in my past and i can't go back.