Windows In Another House

Arguing doesn’t help anything, especially when we’re about to leave.

Looking into eyes but really past them as there isn’t much to say when stuck in stubborn preferred mud.

Relationship like posing for a picture, gotta stand perfectly still using our best fake smiles until the end.


A sink, vent, release valve exposed, and it’s cherished when running perfectly, hated in cold.

Unwilling to explain what going down the line means, hating my poetry because it’s my diary filled with scribbled fractions.

Taught so well how some love just doesn’t translate into real world uses, hate me when I call it out instead of wearing an everything is fine mask.

Responses to mature responsibility tell the current season, too much on the line to entertain broken glass used as petals leading to our bed.


Asked, why are you with me if I’m doing this to you.

Response because I’m hoping someday you’ll look through yourself into the promised land inside.

I’m a foolish man, can’t open windows in someone else’s house.


Don’t want to touch, speaking has become perilous, empty dead end hallways where we are.

Silent rides, can’t bring you with me it’s too hard describing my newest scars, you’ve become a painful mystery, unattached, drifting blissfully.

Headed to twisted logic city with plans for complete alienation, protester’s signs saying no one understands or gets this while pointing to a handheld mirror.


She said arguing doesn’t help anything, especially when we’re about to leave and I agree.

Tell everyone when this is over like 6lack how you’re more free than you’ve ever been, run back to your abusers, they help you echo unnecessary thoughts and dodge growth.

I wanted forever, hands held, and I’m glad the answer was no especially as we’re about to leave, caught wind we’re going to be strangers so enough.

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