the conditions in which vertebrae die and grow

You've become empty in his absence
like he was the column of vertebrae holding you upright
in the end the fantasies of fairytale for'nevermores weren't enough
'cause deep down you've always known
love is conditional

He was mass rejection bleeding on your sleeve
and you liked it - you like the way it felt to chase him
to never be good enough, because maybe, just maybe
one day he'd wake up and notice your candle dwindling
before he blew it out and you found heaven
in the darkness

Love was a danger, a thrill
he was your greatest addiction
and in quiet moments you can admit to yourself
that you liked the violence
you like the way it felt to break him down to the little boy
he always was behind his whore facade

Even more, you liked the way he smacked you back
though you learnt to see it coming
there was something wrong when he was too fucking nice
perfection always had a razor-bladed lining

Between the puffs of smoke that lined your lungs
and his burning whiskey skin - heaven was always
going to be too far away
despite the pretty notions concocted in
alcohol-tinged imaginations
and the buckets of love that leaked like blood
through the bullet holes he shot there in your sleep

And the sad part is, you don't know you anymore
you don't know you without him
who will you be if he's not there to stroke your vertebrae
with painful eroticism and nonsensical insights?
who will you become now he's not there to fill your veins
with unpredictable delights?

Life was so empty before your reinvention
you were bored - you were boring
or so it would be easy to believe
truth be told
you were always too scared to be anything else
and the only thing he ever did
was show you the you, you could be

So you bleed and you curl against silent walls
listening to memories you'd rather forget
because it's comforting here
in his final rejection
and the self-deprecating satisfaction
that you succeeded at failing
to be good enough
like you always knew you would

©Indie Adams 2012