incomplete

Imagine If I knew the limits,

and possibly played by the rules,

never stepped over the lines.

could I be by your side,

just one last time.

before you're only shambles of blurred pictures,

inside my interior canvas,

that can only manage to paint you.

I wish I was only a little wiser

so that I could see straight through smoky grey eyes

like a thermal scope piercing through the smoke itself.

perhaps if I was more wise

I could avoid the empty alleyways

that prove to fill my lungs with toxins.

until i cannot breathe.

time and time again.

and that's how the story goes,

incomplete and without reason,

is exactly how it was supposed to be.

ive always felt more complete,

when I'm incomplete.