Impervious

my vision is clouded now with fakes and liars, petty hardships and regret
remember when you told me that you had eyes just for me, and I was the only honest one left?

home is where your heart is, and I drive by on occasion just to feel a tiny spark of anything at all.

fingers crossed this journey is a little more than just a guilt trip. you weren't along for the ride, but I thoughtfully brought your baggage just in case.

I still feel your presence in cased in all the sweet mushy soft spots, and scathing brooding darkness that presses why I'd still exist.

someone's telling me I just might die after this, and should find it appropriate if you read my letter, and didn't feel a word of this.

whether it's a circle or a spiral,
I know how this plays out.