we're strangers always. from the beginning to the end. flickering bulbs in the dim closets of our thoughts. draw their fragile maps to who we really are.
the gentle phantoms and the angry ones crawl inside our empty skins.
we sip the poison. intrigued by it.
we tug on the rusted zippers. that keep us inside ourselves.
the truth turns a corner and disappears out of sight.
it's too many miles to count. it's too much blood to ignore.
we spend our lives trying to undo all the knots that we've cinched too tight.
when all we needed to do was cut the stitches.
we crawl out of our skins. blunt skeletons. fumbling to walk in the absence of our weight.
we scowl at those demons. even as they prove themselves accurate.
we wear our choices in heavy overcoats and broken ceilings.
the decision almost ours to make. the cuts not quite deep enough to convince.
as we stumble inside our shattered utopias. determined to prove we're stronger than our mistakes.