i'm going to spill over one day
and i won't be able to stop it

it'll all come pouring out
down to the very last drop
forming a pool of pent up emotions
surrounding us and
soaking our sneakers

and as soon as the last drop falls
i'll freak out and
run for paper towels

but it won't be enough
because it all poured out
and you soaked it in
and that'll be it

i'll be
         e
                 m           p
                                           t
                                                            y.
­
And i'll never know until it happens
whether you'll fill me back up
or walk away from the mess

part of me wants to know which
and the other part of me doesn't want to be left empty.

yesterday,
that's when it started. i said, i cannot hold myself together anymore and if i move i will probably turn into a pile of tears and dead skin cells on the floor.

today,
i took a shower so hot that it burnt my skin. i cried until i couldn't see and washed my skin with soap so i could maybe wash you out. i wept to you, a pile of dust at your feet. you walked around me to avoid cleaning.

tomorrow,
you will sweep me away. as i beg for your touch, so healing to me, you will sweep me into the trashcan. i am dirt in the middle of a landfill somewhere.

"I think the
dynamic might just be
problematic." I said and
I didn't think but
what I viewed as manifest
destiny may just have been
a self-fulfilling
prophecy.