air is running out
quickly might i add
through these apphrensive tears, i make out your disastrously mad blue ones
you've simply asked me a question
with your cold hands secured around the base of my throat
i don't have much time to answer
"shouldn't this be instinctive?" my thoughts inquire
i hesitate a reply
not becuase i have no oxygen left
but because i have no lies left
your shaking me now
this came a moment too soon but seconds too late (for one more excuse)
i am up to my conscience with this mendacity
i blankly stare back at you,
your lips are cursing me, i can tell
i hear no noise, no sound
you've thrust me against the wall
this particular impact hurt worse than your terrible accusations
i refuse to believe in settling
i do believe in daring to let you go
not too easily
but much to warily
Air begins to slowly pour back into my dreary lungs
I breathe in violently
your starting to let me go.
You stare at me as if i've slid a blade in your gut
'Why can't you just love me back?' the culprit whispers sadly.
i begin to feel your hands around my neck again.
to my utter surprise
their not around me neck
but resting in your jean pockets
i begin to realize what a mistake
i start to feel you thrust me against the wall again.
but you don't
exactly where you were when you entered my home.
a few failed responses later
your expression changes swiftly
from remorse to confusion
i reach for my finger and feel for the familiar, smooth and circular band of commitment
i swiftly tug it off,
relieving a ton off of my entire being.
i hand it to you,
place it directly in your palm even
this overly confident,
side of me leaves an imprint and you endure this point.
Your cheeks are wet, but they don't phase me
my pulse quickens and i begin to understand this is too much to handle standing up.
i slowly and unsurely lower myself onto the cool tile floor
i rest my cheek on its slippery surface,
and invite relief into my system.
i shut my eyes and periodically count the seconds until you leave me,
my head fades
i regain consciousness from the awake sleep to the sound of another slamming door.
"i'ts over." i whisper to myself.
reality pushes me back on my feet
and as i begin one more hour,
i combat these unecessary tears
and tell myself: