Chests.

Everything
comes to an
end
trading
drugs don't
make us
friends
I don't want to be the one
to have to try and
tell you
this
I don't know who
the fuck
you've been
I don't see the things
you see
anymore
and
I never did
and in my defense
you would crawl if the option
was given.
And if the opportunity
was presented
You'd piss away
everything
that I built
and you're tearing
the foundation
as it rests.
The skeletal frame
in my
proverbial
chest
is caving in,
and
its
caved in.
Sharing trauma isn't
the best way to
connect
And it's a bittersweet
taste in the
back of my
neck