Creations of Cruelty

Vacation getaway.
Conversations with friends,
And God pounding on my door frame.

The louder the memories,
The quicker I return,
And last night I died in my dream.

They just stood there,
Patting my back, like it was time to go.
I love you doesn’t mean a thing unless it’s shown.

There I was, convulsing on the pavement,
And when I woke up I found myself out of air,
But this has been this way for quite a while.

I feel like I can’t talk,
As though the words refuse to leave my tongue,
For the sake of those around me.

I cannot live like this,
And I cannot not lie about how I’m feeling today.
“I’m doing alright. How about you?”