architecture

Another set of fragments, another string of sentences, another day in exile and isolation. Cages  made of meat and bone shuffling back and forth, all insults and injury and one more for the team. Nothing but damnation phrasing and the curt confessions of the manipulators, nothing but dark rooms and dim windows and additional dysfunctions. Built wrong, too broken and too strong. Problems with the wiring, trouble with the architecture, waiting and wanting though I know better. Wishing for a world that never was, saving up to end the one I am. 

Me and my heart that handles like a freighter. Me and my mistaken mind. Half a year with all the hints and leanings strung out before me, and still my thoughts go wrong. I never meant a thing, I never made a ripple. Doomsdays come and doomsdays go, but it looks like you were the one that ended me. As dispassionate as a bored cat lingering in the kill you finished me, without joy or malice. A mangled rat left to the ants and flies, eviscerated with maggots for eyes. Ghost me out then gaslight me with charms and letters. Burn down my nothing little life and continue on with your show. I miss someone that isn’t you, another person I never knew.

All the mistakes were mine, the way you strolled right over the lies you were caught in, the tells you have that always showed. You offered nothing, you made no promises. The abandonment was hard, but no one should waste their time bothering with fools that mean nothing to them. You are a collector and a tourist, someone always seeking status and acclaim. Mostly I was embarrassed by asymmetry of our contact. You were the one whose words I waited for, the one person that could make my day, while you’d travel around the world to speak to someone you hated before you would talk to me. I never even made your top forty, and you were never even a friend. It’s the truth that I can’t take, this further waste of my wasted, worthless life.