i crossed your path head slung low hands were clasped and my, my my mind was still attached but you fixed that of all the things i think i miss that the most my body wasn't just a host my mind was completely unique to me and now I'm just like all those walking ghosts the lost souls fixed and detached head slung low i crossed your path

my fangers those carpal hangers backhand smack stangers grip the neck stranglers wrestle the buttons on your blouse wranglers have lost the toss heads to tails and are now neatly tied noose danglers

bereft forlorn something gained something torn from its frame plum and shorn marred with shame chant the sadist mantra there is no gain, wihtout pain.

i don't want to sound like a sad sappy mother fucker but i'm bereft now that not a sign is left you've disappeared i've been cleared from all thoughts forlorn to decay with all the forget me nots

a flaw no matter how small is enough to make my skin crawl so i find myself stressed under duress my mind churns out more thoughts than i can possibly digest and no matter how hard i try to shake it I still feel useless fetal position quiver and try to make sense but it's hard to when everything comes up fictitious lies now surmount the ones that were dispelled previous and the empty hollow shell grows more obvious its not a moment captured but a prison cell that never releases its captives

my heart was broke in the door was unlocked although i knew better still it came as a shock the most beautiful thief was never stopped never questioned never a suspect to the cops she lurks in shadows now whispering this might hurt awhile I replied its ok if my heart breaks thats what it 's made for anyway

if history has taught me one thing its that i never learn anything

phase one spill your guts honesty as a quality never quite worked well for me anyway phase two she'll set the distance push it between us incrementally greater with every passing day phase three always demonstrates the hands of fate never had happiness planned for me phase four sidelined I've been marginalized this spectator process reaks with the stench of familiarity phase five into the abyss the bottomless pit darkness as an envelope seals the edge and engulfs me phase six repeat and rinse.