Do you cry in shadows,
under staircases, between every social
interaction that goes wrong?
I move to expression,
entwining our perdition,
pernicious to a fault, in my own tongue.
I didn’t mean to strike the notes
between my lips and teeth
revealing my true feelings.
I am harsh and judging even as a friend.
I loathe that you would still me,
because I am so confused,
between words with love,
and yet I do not like becoming jealous.
I move away to distance me,
hoping to drift away on seperate
looking into each other’s eyes,
across the inky blue water,
and vowing to never speak again.
I am ever so good at endings…