This TIme

I needed to hear all the things that I wanted you to say.
I wanted to hear all the things that you needed to say?
The pictures are foggy
and I still have them uploaded.
You know that maybe I had something to say. We couldn't hear it. I keep dreaming that I'll finally say the right words in the right rhythm.
I was too worried to let it go.
And so I was the coward that I envied in my misguided intentions.
But you know.
I wanted to be all the things no one could say. (you couldn't say)
I woke up in a pile of dirt.
I woke up on a swing set after dark.
I woke up to your cologne.
And then I started drifting back.
And then I decided not to wake up anymore.
You decided you weren't going to say goodbye.
Who was I to wait?
The thought lingered in my throat, and it still does, because there's a conscious part of me that will aimlessly roam.
Anatomy failed me. Wasn't there supposed to be a heart?
Wasn't I supposed to be able to use my brain?
And the paths crossed, and I did away with both.
I heard what I was saying. I couldn't.
I couldn't say what I was saying. And I didn't.
And because time is just our imagination
I'll do away with what I had imagined.
Cigarettes linger in the air and I hate it.
I hope you drink alcohol, to let it go.
Because I can respect such idiocy compared to what we both have been doing.
This.
It's too bad I never had much rhythm.
And no drum to dance to.
Keep breathing, because you don't need me to tell you.
I'm not leaving anymore.