i know i'm being irrational. just don't remind me.

i play in traffic, among the greatest morbid static.
where the cars are scissors,
and they cut me up like i'm an angel.

i love you.
i just never wanted to hurt you.
and i fucked that up.
daily i fall from your skyscraping grace.

so i cry in the backseat as i recall how closely i held you.
and how i tried to promise i would never let anything happen.
you are so precious and my heart bleeds to think.

desperately, my mind races to past concepts of compromise.
and my spirit lashes, and these tears jerk in self-contradicting fashion.
if i tried to cut away the pain, it would only hurt you more.
for how can i erase what you have done?

i have become so abusive.

my soul is burning with the conceptual seven candles.
my heart is bursting to think that you deserve better.
my spirit is choking on my potential whatever.

i am a failure.
and i am sorry.