Never Signing Off

Can you see the bags underneath my eyes? Chain me to this nightmare and leave me for dead. I've been running so long I don't know anything else. I've been silent so long I've developed a linguistics problem. My heart is just as heavy as it was when we began. This journey has led to nothing that was promised. No self-discovery. No magical healing. I'm just as long as I was to begin with. Only know it feels so much worse than it did before. I'm not the guide, I'm just following along. I listen to what I'm told I have to do. I can't seem to think for myself anymore. I wonder how long I'll be able to hold on to this idea that one day everything will be alright. I've never believed the hype anyway. I don't have any more faith. This reservoir ran dry a long time ago. Back when I thought I could slow down. Now I know that slow is only an excuse for not being able to push yourself. I'm just so tired. Every step feels like a mile. Every day …

I forgot those romantic statements I promised I wouldn't forget. How he wanted to memorize my scars, or to glue me back together. That even knowing he would get burned, he was willing to walk through the flames. That last one wasn't said, but is has been heavily implied.

I wanted to remember those sentiments as more than the butterflies they filled me with. But I couldn't. I couldn't hold onto the thoughts, and for that, I'm sorry. I held onto the feeling, though. I hope you still have it too. It's a beautiful thing, to feel so loved. To feel like perfection in someones' eyes. To be given a purpose, a smile. To find something in this world worth holding onto.

The idea will never fade, even if he leaves. He's a concept now. A need. A ray of light when the clouds get too dark to see through. The warm blanket when I'm too scared to open my eyes and face the monsters around me. The soft hand that encourages me when I decide I want to be brave.

He's…

He would show up at my work, late at night. He'd have a couple drinks, and rant. He said he knew it was the only time he could talk to me without people suspecting something was going on. Without her stuck to his side because she was too young to get in. He would drone on in run on sentences and words I could tell would read in parenthesis. This became his method. His escape, or more accurately, his mask. The sentences were his sentence and he was serving time for crimes he didn't even commit yet. But he hung himself for them anyway. He had a thing about pain. Causing and receiving. All in a way that made me think he'd only truly be happy if he died alone. But he couldn't be alone. He was never built for the loneliness, finding himself in bed with strangers to pass the time. And he carved the names of those strangers in the post he hung himself from. He could take a bruise, or a beating, better than anyone. But throw a few spiteful words in his face and he's singin…

He came to get me just after 9. I had no idea where we were going, but when he stopped the car I recognized the club. We used to frequent it when we were younger. Back when we use to sneak out of his parents house. He made the correlation as we headed inside. He was always spontaneous like that. Last minute was his wheelhouse, and I just knew when to roll with the punches. After all, we had been friends for a long time. I was pretty use to him. Inside, we weaved through a collection of people dancing around like morons. I laughed, but I knew he intended for us to do the same thing. We ordered drinks and I headed up to the lounge. He followed close behind, mimicking the moves of a rather noticeable character on the floor. I don't hesitate to tell him how ridiculous he looks, but he laughs it off. I observe he hasn't aged at heart. But he hasn't aged at all. It's been 5 years, but it feels more like 5 minutes. That dorky smile I've always loved so much is wide as hi…

I'm dreaming about you again. I thought I had this under wraps, that it was finally out of my head. It only took 1 thought to bring you right back in. Now it feels like drowning all over again, fighting to stay afloat. Though I know I'll never win. After all this time, I can't believe I'm here again. So I'm weaker than I believe. I had to look you up again. I had to see it for myself, see the life you're blessed to live. The kids, the wife, the picket fence. Everything you always wanted. It's not even like I don't think you deserve it, because you do, and so much more. If only for having to deal with me. And it's not like I'm not happy. I have everything I could want and more. I just can't seem to let you go, no matter which way the wind blows. I'm always finding your name hidden in places, always seeing your face when I start thinking. I see your smile so often it's starting to burn itself into my memory. But not how I remember you…

She was a dirty blonde who looked like she stepped out of the "scene". She wore short black boots that were covered with mud. She had on torn jean shorts that hugged her well-defined hips. The same hips she swayed back and fourth as she moved through the crowd back stage. The black muscle shirt she wore hung off one shoulder and showed off her toned stomach. She had thick black make up over both her eyes and a look that said she already lived enough. There was a gloss on her lips, which were curled into a sly smile as she made eye contact with him.

She approached him slowly with a cold attitude. She put one of her hands on the back of his neck and leaned up. She whispered that he looked tense and suggested she could take off the edge.

He hesitated.

She took his hand and started walking off. She only briefly looked over her shoulder to see she wasn’t met with resistance. She led him down the crowded halls to the bathroom. She walked into the mens’ room and locked the door be…

Here we are again, old friend.
A crown and the queen that eats it.
A legacy that can never die,
Yet everything defeats this.
How do we manage to overcome
Everything that's thrown our way?
How do we fight and fuck
And still, manage to stay?
What sorcery created this
Trainwreck we call a romance?
And when exactly does this spell
Plan on coming to an end?
It's been decades now
The world around us changes
But everything we've always been
Seems to stay the same.
It's like we exist in a different
Time, place, universe.
This is our greatest accomplishment,
But also our greatest curse.
We're such together like super glue
Attaches to the skin.
To pull apart would take too many
Pieces in the end.
The pain we feel to stay this way
Amplifies if we separate.
Although I don't always like us,
There's nothing I would change.
We're crazy and we're arrogant.
We're in love, but not young.
We've fought too many battles,
Yet we've always won.
I have more fa…