Strange

Its strange how things turn out,
life turned up side down, can't
seem to make it straight.

Don't laugh at me as I lie here
on the cold floor. You aren't
perfection personified.

I have turned things over and over
trying to make sense of nonsensical
motives you seem to press upon me.

We are one; a splintered glass
heart that no glue can fix. We are two;
broken and forgotten we fade.

Fate is a tragic thing, just as splintered
as our torn hearts. Once again you
laugh, but don't, you aren't pure either.

Like caged animals we scream,
scratching and tearing each other
down to nothing.

You say this is just teen angst.
Its not, this is a moment we will
never retrieve again.

Broken we will sit upon this floor.
Touching, palm to palm, pressed
against the cracked wall.

Just as Titanic sank to the depths,
we will fade into the bottomless
ocean's arms.

Don't laugh at me as I lie here
on the cold floor. You aren't
perfection personified.