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Bound by associates, I am the epitome of impermanence. I am just another name to drip from your tongue while your eyes wander towards the clock adorning the wall. I long for things to be different, for you to look at me and see all the things I want to be. Spilling into conversations leaving us with damp eyelashes and stolen breath, I'm tripping over my own ankles trying to catch you before your spine acquaints the floorboards. Perpetual hallways echo with promises of always breaking your fall. We are chain linked; I give you the best of me in turn for the worst of you, I peel your lips away from your teeth and pry open your strewn lexicon. 

Throw me a bone and I'll catch it between my teeth. Gnawing at the foretaste between the shrill of your heels swerving out the door or tugging at my chain in a weak effort to make you stay. I'm sure your grip will only become more binding. When the marrow cracks I'll be grateful I could leave my mark on something at all, sucking at it until I feel the bruises form.

I'm a loser, and you make me lose.