the things we shouldn't say

I don't fucking see you
and I don't fucking hear you
and I'm letting go of you
am I getting this right?
let me know
if I leave something out
maybe it's better
having these separate, simple lives
maybe it's better
to not try at all
I don't fucking care anymore
and I'm fucking self-centered
and we can't agree on anything
What is the point
if this is all we get--
this simulated existence
this controlled burn?
The things we shouldn't say
are the things strangling me
like I can't read your eyes
and the wickedness
on your trembling lip
you think this is about
some other girl
maybe you think I'm bored
but the truth isn't nearly as interesting
and I don't care for lies
What I need is what I'm not getting
what I am
is slowly rotting
I have faced the facts
that's the problem
I have walked the line
and found myself
far from home
I don't know how
this strange blood
got in my veins
all I know is that
you don't understand
I keep shutting down
parts of myself
hoping that I'll find the faulty ones
hoping that death
will furnish some sort of victory
It is a war
of my will
against the wildness that defines me
some day I'll win
and someday I'll wonder
was it worth the price?