you can go now

and all the words

are falling

through the floor

water is seeping

into every crack

walls bulge

the wide-eyed

ideals

no matter what

you won't be back

it's ok though

i can handle that



as a matter

of fact

it wasn't you

who broke

through

for every pane

for every ache

it's all still intact



did i ever mention

the way you

affected every

little thing i did,

i do-



all of your

well-placed

anger

wrapped up

tight

in fourth

of july lights

handed down

your misery

held on

to some place

some place we

could spend a night

believing it was

eternity



the poems are

dying now

words? they don't come

and even october

with its rainy mouth of grey

all fade

all fade



away





it's okay though

it's all okay



you can go