Past Due
Got trashed and passed out on your couch, I need some help, but your help is an eternity away. We fell apart, I took a rock to the window, because somehow we ended up with our end low. Pieces to the puzzle fall flat, faceless in a crowd of vibrancy. Colors swirl around your face like God created the rainbow just to enhance how beautiful you are, or maybe that’s what’s left of the alcohol in my system talking. I wish the only hangover I ever knew came from shots of Jameson and pitchers of Bud Light, but no liquor will ever make me feel as sick as the day you walked away from what we built for each other. The pages that we’re on will always be different, I will continue steadily moving towards an end and you’ll continue skipping back and forth trying to figure it out before I do. You keep living out the life other people think you want, and I’ll keep running off stages, puking in the back because the song that I wrote about you made me feel sick, swaying back and forth holding my chest like an elderly woman who’s having a heart attack. But the saddest thing is that I would rather have a heart attack than have my heart broken, at least heart attacks don’t leave you wide open. Spaces between us grow greater, and our love fades into oblivion, lost between two opposites without any direction of magnetic force. We fell farther than the rain could support, now reminiscing is the future, looking back is moving forward, and dancing in the rain will never feel the same again.
