escalating

I was looking down the road
just waiting for two headlights to wisp me away -

and today you stand here with your hands in your pockets
trying to speak of truths that could have saved yesterday
just another ripple in your coffee

and in one room over a girl plays her violin with broken strings

we all seem to be tiny soldiers marching in pointless lines sometimes
all racing against the sun and the moon,
only going home to red bills on a dusty doormat.

so have your sweet fix
and feel the loneliest feeling in the world,
induced happiness and disappointment
that's gulped down quickly
and sits heavily in your stomach

*

I guess I could say that you killed me or unleashed me
and then say that I wrote this for you
and dare you not to like it...

beause i would tear the pages out of my books
and crumple them until the writing is illegible
instead of crushing the leaves beneath our feet.

yet how come every time I turn around it seems
that something has finished and is turning brown?
i suspect we're next