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Poem
A Hallmark card would have sounded sweeter than that 
My shiny badge of defusion and falsely sworn merit 
I’m the worst this town’s ever seen!
But I want justice for this
I keep retriggering your created catastrophes 
But somehow, I can never find the evidence to prove it
And there's so much room in your library of wealth 
I can take this book of accountability but I wouldn't know where to store it
Fact or fiction is your description?
Is your tone peachy or melancholy?
And how much time do I have to pass before you forget my lapse in judgment completely?
Oh I’m plenty protective, just as long as I don’t have to prove it

So what,
Your teeth are sharpened to points?!
So are my pencils to fend off your spirits 
with my strengthened platitudes 
But you won't ever see them 
cause your feet are anchored into the floor of your room
But you don't see me dragging this on
You won't see me downing the poison this soon 
Busting out the sewing machine 
to blindly patch these self-inflicted wounds 

You're not Amelia Earheart 
We're not playing hide and seek with your identity
For all I know, you might've chucked it into a landfill already
Along with every citizen secret that will never make it to the right person 
One man’s trash is another man’s burden 

Burying your anger 
But you never go back and dig it up later 
Always picking a fight with the wall
But somehow, you always lose 
Every life lesson failed is one more knuckle laced with a bruise 
Black and blue like the ego you spit out and chew 
I guess it's hard for me to understand
Cause I still love the life I chose 
But we also know 
That a life of notebooks soaked in tear-water
While quietly slitting our shells,
Is not any better 

Go back to the pen that keeps you so busy 
Or the number calling that you'd rather see
But I will never forget the time you went on about how much I mean to you,
Even if you expected me to

I can't relate to your struggle with purpose 
Rather I ponder about my kindness and ask "can I preserve this?"
And with every mental cigarette burn of wondering if you deserve this
Still, the thought of you with someone else 
Puts even my happiest thoughts into a decaying abyss
I don't struggle with purpose because it is this
A curse on my life to always miss this 
But there's no need to raise the gun to my head,
When I'd openly admit that it's still worth it 
Oh I’m plenty protective, 
only of my reputation and outward perspective 
A curse on my life to always fantasize 
Why can’t I have this? 
So put your best foot forward through the arch of your isolate haven
As I crawl back to my requisite self-made cist
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