I Dreamt My Last Breath

Cold water, warm water, does it matter?

Well I have a preference, does that matter?

Does anything matter,

before I turn on this faucet?

Clothes or no clothes, does that matter?

Letter or no letter, or have my actions,

spoken enough already?

At some point, this conclusion adds me to a statistical category.

Time wasted, sabotaging happiness, destroying my life,

or has my life always been destined,

to implode.

I thought you could fix me,

pick up the pieces, align the puzzle,

but when you couldn't, when you failed,

I lost faith.

But we love who we love, it's not your fault.

Recently, my eyes opened, God equipped me with the power,

to fix myself this whole time.

I can't restore, what I have stripped down to the core,

this rebuild, is not the original.

It's something totally new, from moth to butterfly, metamorphosis.

Even though it might be beautiful,

what I'm selling has lost its value,

she knows the foundation from which it was built.

No wonder you're no longer enticed, drunk in love, connected.

Was every action, a call for help, every word an omen of whats to be?

Has my mental deteriorated, is this quitting, how could it be anything,

when everything feels so hollow.

That's it!!! I'll justify this as a science project.

If I feel so empty, my hypothesis is, these two incisions will prove,

I'm already gone.

I know blood will flow from my vessel, but that which is me,

Is already gone.

Whether I drown in this tub, or bleed myself dry,

I argue that all of me, is already gone.

But if I'm wrong, than I'll drift away, far from here,

quietly and alone, into a warm, wet abyss.

Either way, at least the waters warm.

(If you've been in love and lost it all, than you know the depths from which these words crawled out of, to come to life)