The crimson

I'll just sit here. Mind you i can smell the oven conveying your thoughts of frustration and dialogue. This townhome is nothing less than a split between countries. Whispering through the cracks in the wall. Coveted by graffiti and smeared by anti-socialist remarks. The hollow crimson of this thin line we tread. Were i to cut myself you would feel it. A scathing remark made in ernest. Tumble this facade. Reach into that which you hide so well. A tired cathedral full of demons and archaic poems. My life's leash. Tug and i'll be at your heel. Ever the subordinate. Ever the second violin in your symphony of turmoil and self doubt. We are both pragmatic you and I. Myself the most sincere yet with a history of apologies and regret. You, with your insecurities and thought of where you would like to be. Do you not thing i wish such things on both of us? I do empart onto you the knowledge that i and playing this gambit for both of with. Be it for nothing more than a shared happiness. It is a hard road, this life so deluged with instanity and sheer circumstance. Feel seething eyes bore a hole in your heart. We share the same ideology and struggle. Do not hesitate to believe we are in this together. It wont be any easier as time draws in around us. However, we do have each other. We share the same pain and accomplishments. It was never meant to be easy.