spring cleaning

forced sensory overload, music, melodic catharsis, a desk, a computer, a sack of thoughts, and a dare. I dare you Ocean… let go. before it’s too late to return back. turn, before you’re too hurt to forgive, before the wounds infect those parts that still remain in tact. It is over. He has gone back to the familiar, back to the straight and narrow, somewhere where you are nothing but a pastime to their quality time. I bet his apologies were more sincere than the excuses of who you were, where y'all met, how he felt, and what happened along the way. I bet it was a three-ring circus of circles and name-calling, omission, and denial. Shards of sorrys that undercut what y'all built. Sorrys that void the passionate love y'all made. I can’t help but think he is happy. Happy enough to walk away with a hope that someday he’ll find you again. They say, if you love something, then let it go…I say then, it will come back to you more FUCKED up than when it left…ask God how Jesus was when he got back to heaven. Holey. Heretic. Haphazard. I'm going to need that key back, this heart should have never turned the lights off the vacancy sign. Rewind. Reset. Regroup. Ocean, I dare you…let go. Now is the time to deliver a hearty “fuck you” because boy did he fuck you, then so easily did he leave you… simply a mistress, misfit, a passing thought so quick to forget. And love fell into you like an avalanche of bricks. now you can’t even listen without a filter, listen without letting that bruised mind meander through hypothetical conversations where your ears weren’t invited. The pillow talk on her pillows, the red digits morphing in HER peripheral instead you so poetically measuring time by the glassiness of his eyes…do not falter, you must not fail… you must swallow more than you did the last time. Carve that last goodbye inside the crevice of your thigh… make it a masterpiece, so disastrous, so ugly and abstract, that from now on, you’ll learn to be more careful…there are no wolves in sheep’s clothing…there are only fiends blessed with nips and tucks…this is facelift faith…love I you?