Dead Ends

are you there
i know youre not because then i would be weirdly comforted by
the dead air
by your silence
by your breathing
i know all we have is missed calls
all intentional
and dead ends
that we waist gas driving on
we twist and turn and bend and break
to fit into worlds
we just couldnt match
i broke myself trying to fit the mold of
your world
i should have known to never love the things that could not love me back
but sometimes we are naive
enough to believe
that we can change the molds of others hearts
i have news for you that isnt new
we cannot change
we can only hope as we break
shard by shard by shard
that we are not changing too much
but of course we are
that we are not losing too much strength
as we lose all energy for living
im not sorry that all we have is missed calls
and dial tones
and dead ends
i want to hear your words
but i need to hear my own


2 thoughts on “Dead Ends

  1. It was delicately done, how this meandered but was bound together at the end. You are like a painter with a measured hand; every part of the picture was consistent in the fineness of its stroke, nothing missing, nothing overdone. The tone was impeccable. Kudos.

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