If you’re looking for who used to roam in this head, just know he’s dead. From all the beds he’s made wet and all the lil things to invest. The pieces you’ve known no longer fit. You’re a stranger to the feel of my lips. I’m a fucked up twist as I found him not giving a shit. It took me and his mimic in the mirror to replace his ribs. Chest held together with the bare knuckles of his fists. He was protecting himself from something that gave him fits. So far outta whack even talking to himself didn’t make much sense. And patience was strangled in a grasp gripped so tight, whatever fucked him over, it wasn’t missed. Hatred was a silent stare where everything past midnight swore never to disturb the gesture upon his facial displayed. That type of pain has been laid to rest. Who resided here long ago has no grounds to stand comfortably within this chest. Peace has risen to the occasion. No more embrasions. Not chips of incompletions. Just the full aspect of deletions. Riding worth of unfortunate decision that plague the mind. As the only thing left is to live life…
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