Surfacing

It's 2 AM and I don't give a fuck if I ever see the sun again
How long has it been since I could find the words to say exactly what I meant
What do I even mean anymore? I can't rememeber the last time I've been able to look myself in the face and explain my thoughts or my actions
Air escapes now lacking passion
Speak for days without saying a word
But my blood still bouls beneath my skin to be put down by apathy
In time I will count my failures in terms of closets boarded shut
These sealed up boxes are piling up
This poetry buries itself inside of me for fear of being understood
These pictures cut once
Sting until they are done
Never again