why would i continue to save you
conversations culminate in a pleading passive aggressive attempt at burning down the house while i turn off the burner wondering how you continue to avoid death
words are all you have to construct a carousel of faces and stories that no one cares enough to verify, not sure why, my pulse pounds when i inhale the spew of shit that flies from your mouth that would send you south, if i believed that. instead i commit to the hell of living around you when the bells jingle and the temperatures push us into lily pad lakes filled with left over phrases commenting how things were different when they were said as opposed to how they are when we see that no one took off the roof and replaced it. you wanted them to, not knowing we’d visit so soon.
it’s really on me