every
burnt
bridge
truth gone hungry
pangs of regret
every burnt bridge is a guide light to my friends
and the silence speaks volume
dialled up to ten, facing denial in trial by pen
vomiting denial on a bitumen catwalk
living in the skin of the kid who is at fault
asphalt diary, find me, hunched over regret
and I won’t move on until the moment has left
I never act on thoughts but choose to move past them
never saids bloom into my scar garden
too few that’s shared, that I loose to regret
when all i choose to do is keep them from you instead
if you’re the sum of my thoughts and the maths is correct
the amount that I amounted to, won't pass that mountain of debt
a series of uncommitted half truths from this bar stool
disguised behind sarcasm, laughs, and some fast food
lips stitched, but only lipstick could part it
our skin swims and lives in the margins their carved in
you’re a part of this apartment, my mind’s an attic
where the ghosts of my youth grow lonesome and manic
and slowly ratchet the roaming facets
of a home that fractured into the broken throne of a lone mattress
I’m throwing matches,
to stoke the ashes
every word I spoke in stanzas dances hopelessly hoping it matters
a moment of madness, a lifetime of pain
clawing at the embers unsure if the fire remains
I still see the smoke glide along the top
of the place that I broke where my confidence was shot
and this is the hole point i’m getting to,
when people leave; the sum of the whole forms exit wounds
left with a choir of thoughts to grow destitute
that harmonise every single thing I never said to you
never saids - they bloom,
unless you act on a thought
but a thought is all that it eventuates to
and I gotta lot of thoughts