the panic room

watch for the signs of destruction. nights spent staring out car windows. holding back sobs. endless streams navigating cheeks for reasons unknown. the satisfying feeling of an all-too-empty stomach. when hungry feels beautiful. slashing locks and infusing colors. change in pace, taste, atmosphere. drastic changes in habits. sudden unrequited obsession. needing more. needing more. needing more. nights spent alone, afraid, replayed conversations that never took place.

she doesn't have to open her eyes to know that this place is all too familiar. an empty room that looked so promising from outside the door. she thought he'd be here. well, he was, they'll say. yes, i know. he asked to stay, they'll continue, but you told him to leave. no, you left. or was it both? which way did it go? she can't remember exactly. it's the comfort of knowing. only, you'll beginning to realize you don't know at all. hands held in secret. but not in silence. an unwanted hush blankets affection in a smothering fashion. you won't submit to terms, so instead you sit alone with a stomach ache of jealousy and teeth turned cold in the grind. smokey familiar bass lines fill your head, leave no room for thoughts. you're always coming back to the same place, the comfort is the source. other's words seem more fitting than your own. as if anyone listen to the things you never say. and that was one of the issues, you know, the fact you hear what i say and not what i mean. can't you understand i need the fight? i need this to be worth something so i can be worth something. but you aren't looking for a challenge. you think you've let it go but you've got a state full of reservations. abandonment. a harsh, bitter word. it bit the ears, did it sting as it left your tongue? i feel sick at the thought that i could've hurt you so much. a boat stuck at sea without the wind, without so much as a breeze. accentuated vowels emphasize feeling. the feeling has to match melody, and the words dipped in wit. so many words, you see. when was the last time you had so many words? it's as if you found a lost locked box and self destruction is the key. the bass line gets louder, deafening all the naggings you don't understand. remember sunset porches? remember thunderstorms and mix cds and the first time you broke a heart? dried flowers wait by the bedside, forgotten only until you need to remember. this is usually when the box comes out, i still kept your letters, every one. i won't speak to you now, but i always miss the quick goodbye and deadly drives. anxious for the unknown. you don't understand the most important part you don't even know you're missing. the music swells, like a lump of words in my throat that i can't bring myself to say. this is it, i hope you know, there's no going back from this. it's what we were always working toward.