inspiration is cheap but only i can pay the price for what you need

for us love is spelt like impossible.

i miss falling asleep in the grass
and sunburns.
and the person who clicks right into their place in the world.
right between time
and the universe.
next to infinity
and light.
some time between when you're just starting to care about someone
and the time you finally let them know..
they run.
they always run.
i know it sounded so sheepish,
so juvenile, so seventh grade.
but it worked.
and it was as sincere as i could ever amount to being.
we didn't just break their boundaries
we pushed them down on their knees,
came, and kissed them off
and called once..
but never did again.
every day is weighted down with the idea that maybe everything will never be ok.
maybe this is as good as it gets.
until then fuck the perfect score, your paper soldier lives, your bullshit attitudes, your facades
and congratulations you've convinced me that your life is something that i'll never need
i'll be poor as dirt, living out of dumpsters and pissing in alleyways
before i get on my knees for your bullshit lives.
and i'll be dead but i'll have two middle fingers and a few more ounces of dignity
than you could ever buy or manufacture or bribe or wrap your noose around.
we've gotten used to eachothers bullshit
me and you are "it's alright"s vs "i hate you and everything you've ever liked, but you're all that i've got and i'm going to use the shit out of this until i find something better. i'm gonna leave you heartbroken and cheated and used. just like you make me feel this entire wasted time."

you should see me, i write myself to sleep
and sadly i feel like
all this > i will ever be