I apologize for any time I have not given a damn.

I provide a new excuse for every fourth quarter I have lost.

This sight is now yours only.

I gave up trying to spell love.

I have chosen to be loved and lost in your spell.

I remember when I used to be so high that my feet barely touched the ground.

You became my new drug.

I’m now walking away from Mars towards a new heaven.

I’m tired of my blood soaked pages.

It is time I wrote in new ink.

 

Maybe cracked hearts seep love more easily.

Maybe cracks hurt those who fight them.

Today, I embrace the results of my id.

I am no longer fighting the consequences of my ego.

I guess I am feeling super.

I am lost in dreams of you.

You only step in for some moments to hold my hand.

How then can it be that you are an angel in reality?

I choose not to exist but you give me a reason to live.

Learning lessons of my ludicrous and lackadaisical life.

Shedding scabs and letting the wounds show.

 

I’m tired of hard hearts feeding my feral nature.

I can’t see your smile because I’m lost in your eyes.

I can’t smell you because I’m embracing everything around you.

I can’t taste you because I’m devouring my old self.

Wisdom is of no use if I keep falling on the same path.

A man is more than his word, even when plural.

That is why what you perceive is greater than what I can say here.

You make me want to be selfless.

But even that feels self-serving when I try to walk in your steps.

 

I’d say I’m a prisoner of your soul.

But I searched for the keys and walked into this cell.

It’s not a mutiny when I want to take a swim within you.

Can’t you see me defending to the death your right to drown me?

Believe in my opposing and hidden nature coming out.

I no longer dumb down my words just because I’m scared of heights.

The fog feels like a past hangover fading off from my last drop of liquor.

Maybe my fingers getting stuck in your hair is a sign.

Maybe the sound of you saying my name is the new elixir.

What is for sure is that I’d want you to be mine.

But my battered old ghost is whispering in my ear.

It is better to be yours.

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