I lay with limbs limp wondering how the sad map of my body became desolate. There are secret stores of undiscovered and the casted combs that hoped for handed homes. I watched our lives as eyes dart and dare under where, the disinterested and disenchanted. Becoming a piece of plywood in your frame wood walls built to subtract from the sweet melodies of songs you play for others. When did I become a distraction, an empty cabinet with knick knacks and once was. There was more in the dark charisma of your iris and the flick of your twisted smile, for awhile I caught the attention of your special spirit. The buzzing bur of activity beneath my skin, I am too much to be lived in and I have been a patient piled on, the dizzy twirl of days diving into night and yet here I am, in the dark and damaged. I pulled too much from too deep and served the platter too steep expecting you to have an appetite for all the parts I worked for. Tonight in the soft triumph of the keys I unwind and appreciate the roots. Grown fragile around the sleep slop of my heart, extensions that were once radiant rungs fallen pliant on the reliable beat of practical. Too inside and here my flaws rein, the captions creeping down the defiant curve of spine. I want to believe in second chances, in romances and all the sturdy builds of friendship but this ache removes me, capsizes and disturbs me. The waiting and debating, the emptiness degrading when every moment is another with distance, the tunnel speaks of unspoken and more broken.