You, Me, and the Devil Makes Three

CATEGORY

life

Its plain as day
Written all over your lying face
met some manipulating es
In my day
Crosed paths with s along the way
youre conniving ass
takes the cake
This is hard still
But its getting easier
Can't wait till your just a ghost to me
Go back wherever you're from
saying we're done feels good rollin
off my tongue
Who carers how come
Its just gotta be
You do bother me
I hate to admit
guess most simple things do
doesn't get more simple than you
Its pretty much
What we been through
Actually I don't remember most
Thank god for the drugs and the booze
mostly my dear thanks for being you
I knew it was coming
the last year we pretended It was love
Changing completely in each others view
metamorphosis for two
sleeping in the same room
rested eyes were Rare
as time flew by
Precious moments evaporated unnoticed
blurred by angry arguments
One tract minds constantly focused
On concoctions that cleverly control us
We deny with different tactics
I attack it directly
make it an enemy
afraid to admit loving it
You say its not in our way
And possesses positive qualities
Invaluable to the new you you're becoming
I become too
but nothing like you
jealousy fills my breathes with paranoia
Im quick to admit
I initially invented the
already succumbing to my insecure fear
climbing into an intoxicating new view with you
never before known true companionship
as well as complete loneliness
too bravely we battled through increasing distance
Predictable outcomes
from a repeated predicament
the tension is toxic
daily in the thick of it
small but priceless things
previously important and protected
lose their meaning
Double takes are common place
unable to process the scenes we are seeing
Silent ultimatums are made in the confines
of confused minds
self fulfilling prophecies unfolding with ease
promises are said quickly
than forgotten
events of anothers eve are recounted
but no one believes
the temperature between
changes from absolute zero to a billion degrees
above Fahrenheit
hardly aware
even more rare is there
a fair fight
one always more than the other
passion turns painful
defensive actions to reactions
are shocking and shameful
Accusation after accusation
Baseless fabrications
while the rotting relationship shifts
into one holding on in a purely physical form
unable to connect on a deeper level
its over now
nothing left for either to do
but as with any altercation concerning the heart
senseless suffering shall ensue
the past is clung to
as the walls around crumble down
new memories are made that will be
Remembered more vividly
then those that should have been
after all this commotion has run its insane entirety
there must be an end
leaving no room for debate
one is unable to digest the others explosion
of restrained emotion
unloaded in front of his face
the other leaves wherever the steps take
one is now broken as the other breaks free
nothing gets discussed from this point
Never has mud been seen more clearly