passing moment

i can't sleep again, and i have to be up early tomorrow. if i go to sleep now while you're on my mind i'll trick myself into being hopeful for something that can never be. i stare at my screen and reread our most recent conversation, knowing damn well that your "i love you a lot" is as shallow as the shore of a decrepit beach. my response means more than you will ever catch onto, not because you aren't perceptive but because you'll take every mental shortcut you can to avoid the truth. how much longer can we dance this final dance, how much longer until our feet start to bleed? i know that the last beat of the music we share only signals heartbreak, but i can only believe you will get tired soon. i would stay with you until there was no skin left to bleed, no limbs to stabilize myself. you are kinder than me in every way and more deserving of a break from suffering than i do. suffering is a comfort to those like me who fall back in forever on purpose, while you are destined for a better life where you heal and find something you love in the way that i love you. i could squirm inside of your stomach and reside there until you die and i follow in suite, but i won't. my eyes are dull and dreary and my arms ache, so i'll silently live alongside you in fantasies i'll never tell you i have