(no subject)

[mottledgrey]

offbeat

when you turn to me
it is because i can never tell the difference
between your smile and your grimace
it is because i can already feel myself
losing grip

that i cannot meet your eyes still

we commence our
slow crawl through empty pages
or a monotonous mechanic march
take cold comfort in our laced fingers
in the rhythm of your footfalls
steady and sure so unlike
the erratic sounding of my heart
lodged unnaturally in my chest

the fit as though it were not mine
only a stray jigsaw piece forcefully
jammed into the lacking whole
by a rash and maladroit hand

(easily substitutable, so you may)