Can you hear me breathing as you sleep?

High pitched sounds.

Raspy moans.

Uncovered skin.

The taste of my insides on your lips.

It drives you mad.


Can you blame me for not being able to trust when I’ve been blinded in the past? 

You told me to jump, but when I jumped you weren’t there. 

You asked me to fly, but when I flew you slipped away. 

You pleaded with me to try, but when I tried you let us go. 

I came to you half empty.  

You make me strong, then you break me. 

I can’t be blamed.  But then who’s to blame.

“Does the earth revolve around the sun?”

“No,” she replies. 

“Does life end once the heart, mind, and spirit stops functioning?”

“No,” he replies.

“Is it a sin to break the twelve commandments?”

“No,” they reply. 

“Tell me, how can I trust when all you say are lies.”