It'll be another one of those conversations
where neither of you really say anything
in all the words that spill from your lips.
Half of you wants to cut them off
Press the knife of your lips to their sentence
and tell warm stories until you cease being a storyteller
without even a word

But half of you wants to just scream to them
that all you're screaming
is poisonous nonsense to validate them
To validate yourself
To insist feebly and unconvincingly
That the time you burned together
wasn't a waste
of the only thing more precious than time:
Them.

Time I enjoyed
wasting the time
was the only time I enjoyed
and
Time I used
timing everything
was the time I wasted

I have spent much of my love
On people who did not matter
I have wasted most of my time
Believing in a forever after
I have made plenty of mistakes
Hurting the people that cared
I tried fixing my heartaches
But instead I created heartbreaks

What wasted energy of today,
Spent hating on tomorrow.
Life's shortness is exasperating,
You'll never live without sorrow.
This maddening madness,
Of screeching ruckus filled despair.
I've lost my edge,
Yet kept my cool.
The thickness of this hot air,
What blinding rage can produce beauty?
What forked nonsense can make rational appeal?
I'm done with this irrational moment,
A needed silence to congeal.

let me sip this wine
and go back in time
          to when we were young & free.
running wild
          not much on our minds
wondering
         where we could get the next dime
hovering
         over each other's bodies
covering
         so they wouldn't see the bruises
"honey
         there's more on your mind than drugs
what is this side of you?"
        
         "it's the side that no one knew
cause life is a blessing
         and we're wasting our youth."

It isn't often that the sun refuses to rise.
Lately it seems to need encouragement.
Rising just a little later each day.
And when it is the sole reason that the passing of time is so named.
Everything caters to meet the new requirements.
Disregarding lunar activity.
Heliocentric minds have never felt so embellished.
A chaotic routine indeed.
Favoring those who won the right to stay apexed.
Only when so many fight to stay at the top.
Do all those in the middle lose center.
Compressing the foundation into neat distortions of the past.
Like laughing at irony meant to sting.
Or playing a stringless instrument​ to a deaf audience.
Captivating all the more.
For beauty lies in the only I that matters.