Throat Punch

write please read and enjoy

I could not be more secluded

the truth gets harder to swallow every day I am away

I can't help anyone, I don't want to

damn you, I hate that I care, I hate that I love you!

What splendid friends, I alienate, for my own little world

to keep getting smaller

I taste blood in my throat, mournful grief

and I must digest this on my own

once and for all, one for all, I force it down again

and again, exercising the emotional restraint

until in my dreams when he appears to me

comforting, accepting, the man he used to be

I remember the purgatory of consciousness

this torture of waking, I'm not fit to be a broken piece

in the puzzle of his life, merely a lobotomized spectator

to which I declared, good day! We are not friends!

I choose to remember you as my little brother

but we are not on familial or familiar terms,

as you wanted! You said you'd never be scared away

unless I pushed you to break,

it was the most selfish thing I have ever done

to make the silence stop

now I am removed, I have strode through hallmarks that seemed impossible before

I haven't even glanced at your art, which speaks volumes unto itself

and I push all the loving arms and watchful eyes aside

so I may grieve, in the perpetual chaotic motion of this world.