Pontificating parts of the following make me sick
Strange, stagnate blood pumps into skull
The feeling in nauseating, debilitating, other complicated
intricate, polysyllabic words meaning;
"I hate myself"
Hate the way I ended the communication.
The reason of which related to emotional procrastination.
My inflated sense of self masking the pain of you and me
Had been the man I am now I would have seen, handled the problem
solved the issue, maybe then I would not miss you.
That's the theory, at least.
Make not mistake, you're a beauty, but I will not label myself the beast.
In the extravagant drama
our relationship consisted of dueling
You struggling, finding yourself, pieces of the past weighting on you.
I tried to clean them up and make you see
If you'd have let me
Given me some time
Not seen yourself as the older, bolder, ship controller
I'd have gotten down on one knee,
Proposed the ever after, we'd live in laughter
Two kids against the world, I black Lion and his Coco-brow, curly sheen
Fertility Goddess, I'd have treated you like a queen.
In stead I let life make me your whipping boy
For a half year I felt l the toy
You took into your hands and a made less of a man
Carried the anger deep, never let the whole venom seep
and spill out, the cancer grew malignant.
I grew ignorant.
threw us to the dirt and left
Though it was the for the best,
for me
Disregarding the damage to the woman I would have walked down
the road to marriage, next to on the beach, down the road
with a carriage, baby in the front seat
When the far flung fiction future hit me
I could have hit delete
Taken two dozen pills, gallons of alcohol, a silver bullet and gun
Drive my car into the river, drown in the old Buick, and I'd have been
Contient?
Maybe.
But the dead man walking, the sad kid talking to himself in his sleep
He's gone, washed ashore in the back of mind. The man I now will do
But I'll grown and change, something new reborn free from flaws
Pause.
Breath.
Rest.
