Untitled

I've chosen to see the face that haunts me now each night, the hour of the clock which points to humility {surely not humanity} and this love, as tumultuous as the drugs made us feel. When you're high {you're high}, you only fall upon the damp, cold dirt to leave a bitter taste in my mouth, just like that 2am kiss. Will the shadows on your wall speak to me in softer words than you could? Surely it's reality, fantasy is logical {the chemicals in your breath told me so}. No. This has left me in despair, in everlasting and rational hurt that will come in swift blows {what can't be fixed shouldn't be changed}. Yesterdays sullen smile frowns upon my hinges; this that has kept me together, has pulled me apart. Ripped me to shreds. I could have sworn we were infinite.