the ache.

the remnants of you, working its way out of my system
regrets hanging framed in the longest hallway

you, my heart screams out for daily,
I have to push it back down and pretend you no longer exist
submerge, submerge  submerge
pictures I can't delete but refuse to see anymore
you who's name I can't say
we fought to make it work; I would fight for years more
but I'm leaving myself in the worst position
and I can't handle the ache anymore

(you,  miss intoxication,
I'm sure the cemeteries are lined up with the hearts of men you've cast aside
arms length and nothing more
"ten Mississippi" before I press send when talking to you
you're danger in a dress
you're as damaged as the rest
and I refuse to grow roots when the earth below is loose 
I question everything when it comes to you)

I, my Mount Olympus,
I carried you in my heart up miles and years
I, I shook and trembled when you took your belongings and disappeared
I died inside
and when you came back into my arms,
when you came,
like coming up for air after asphyxiating for ages
your love like oxygen racing back into my cells,
the searing, burning in my chest making way for your hands all over me
I cried when I held you again
we both did

I'll always remember that
because it was undeniable

blood radiation.

the way your scent hangs in the air,
and in the blankets we shared,
so curious.
it's intoxicating. 
I feel myself unable to concentrate when I'm in that room
you're addicting
the way you rested your head on my chest and just snuggled in real tight
the way you hesitated twice before resting your lips on mine
like a puzzle piece finding its corners
you spread through me like wildfire
like slow tremors,
working glue through fissures that were once there
multi-colored glasswork hair and a smile that could sell a lie

you are the most frightening thing that's happened in a long time
instant allurement
this compass is just spinning forever

old serpents.

featherless,
steps away
she calls me Most Unclean;
Abaddon, Son Of Perdition
in wicked conversations amongst trusted friends
fell from the heavens we did, rocketing across the skies,
leaving a trail of ash and charred memories

a library of shudder-moves; double-takes
a discotheque of blankets and sheets
on a night like this,
(with lives like this)
you don't stop the song, you just wear better shoes

I'll keep the music playing, my love
but I've erased your name in the books that matter
abandoned and given up on
abandoned and given up on
quitter