I could not stop the waves. one after the other they came, unrelenting crashes of things best left unsaid, choking us with humiliation and horror. I drowned us in viscous mundanities, my struggles for salvation only accelerating our descent to the lightless depths. we surfaced one day from months of this insensate futility and found that we had only been clinging to each other out of a mutual terror; once we found breath again, the cold clean air sweeping into our blackened, wrinkled lungs, you no longer had a use for me. the imprints of our best moments drifted ashore beside us like flotsam and you set them ablaze, and we headed our separate ways, and you walked forth—and I, I could not stop turning back to the flames, to your shadow, ever growing smaller.
I could not stop the words. they tumbled out, one two five after the other, phrases lines entire paragraphs of hypochondriac hyperbole and neurotic nonsense. I knew this was a bad time and place to talk I knew the ideas would not be manifested properly I knew these were words best left unspoken, but still I could not dam the desperate torrential need for understanding, still I sought sympathy where I knew indelible smears and fingerprints would be left and you would never be able to look at me the same way again. I felt the words react and become combustible once they were freed into the open air but still I could not suppress the ever-growing urge for self-sabotage, still I needed to self-immolate in order to cleanse some horrifying imagined taint. our foundation was built brick by brick so painstakingly on words and in a fragile fraction of that time I razed it with the very same.