(no subject)

[materiaux]

two years ago,
i'd be looking for a knife.

and now, i'm not.

if it'd been in the truck i'd of done it.
if it'd been on the bedside table i'd of done it.
if it'd been in the garage i'd be doing it now.
right now.

you don't care but i know you care so i won't go looking.

*
it could be in the garage,
the bedside table,
the truck.
*

and i'd probably do it.
those endorphins.
it feels so much better than...

say i'm fucked again.
just fucking say it.

it's one of the million intangible reasons why the rules are made.
i won't. i can't. i don't care.
you make 'em and you break 'em.

goddamnit i want that feeling.
that "god bless paige" feeling.
pushing that needle in my arm.
let the belt go.

but it isn't even real to you.

meds aren't real,
gay isn't real,
and love don't matter.
doesn't factor,

so it sure as hell don't matter.
none of it.

hard life.
and i can't find it.

the knife that is.