Leech.

This is the only act of forgiveness I will grant you.


The way to my heart is paved in Demerol and shot gun shells.
I am forever going to remind myself of your tears.
You shall no longer be my sense of abandonment.
Wrapped in a blanket that I created.
That I fashioned.
That still to this day keeps you warm.

It's seems you've found your place.
But this is what isolation feels like when those around you scorn your presence and idolize the kid with the full chamber.

An arsenal of words that he knows how to use.
How to let them seep in, sink down, and touch me from the inside out.

He bears no baggage and sleeps under a halo of stars from the West.
Shapeless.

Radioactive.
Except he's not fighting his gut feelings anymore.
He won't wear out his welcome, and will never lie as I have.

It's not about how fast you are.
It's if they "get" your ride.