Fastened on a fragile, unsteady foundation, built with nothing more than you're pale, bare hands, recycled screws and glue..
Barely stands remnants of a house built with stained glass walls..

They're all cracked and broken now by the rigid rocks you would foolishly throw down that half painted, half finished hall of half-assed empty promises you were never able to keep..

And though it never stood a chance against the mercurial weather,
It was an impressive construction, to say the least..

Lately there's been a VHS tape-like memory of everything that used to be stuck on a endless rewind inside my steadily declining, unstable mind Everytime I close my eyes and I don't know why..

I try to understand it the best I can.. 

But I can't. 

Sometimes I wish this compass of morality I hold within me was slightly broken down the center..
Just enough to throw off my navigation by some, small degree and set me a little off course..

Just enough to redirect me into lying to myself about lying to myself.

Just enough for me to believe that I haven't been lost at sea in these endless and relentless, carousel thoughts of you and you and you and you and you...

You wanted so badly for me to believe that it was all just me and my wishful thinking and sinking high hopes..
Me and my false-bottomed dreams...
All tied together and weighted down by your fabricated belief in a everlasting "us"..

Something like Bonnie and Romeo or Juliet and Clyde or however its supposed to go...

I think they end the same way anyway... 

But, Maybe you were right..

maybe it wasn't you at all.
Maybe it was me all along...

Maybe I built you up in my head and placed you up on a pedestal..
Blindly integrating you deep into my sub conscious somewhere..
That way, I could think of you without ever really having to think about you..

Like a plague of visceral, second-nature thoughts tormenting me minute by minute...

I got caught up...

I was too caught up to even notice that I had been yelling and fighting at a god damn brick wall..
I was too caught up in your idea of who you thought I would be..
I bloodied my knuckles on who you thought I was..
Broken both my wrists over who you made me think I could be and I tried so damn hard to believe it.. I did .
I tried to see what you seen in me then and I'm still searching for what you saw to this day....

I'm not one for apologies.. 
I mean, who really means them anyway..? 

So, I'm not sorry I won't ever be who you expect me to be..
I'll never be anything less than what I've promised to be...
But, I promise to try harder..
To be a better man than I was yesterday.

But if you feel as if I've let you down in any way..

Then, In that case, I truly am sorry..

Like the valuable life lessons we were never taught in school about death, love and heartbreak... There's always a downfall when it comes to building up people..

Which is the constant disappointments of being let down by the people we build up because they simply can not compare.

But, who's to blame at that point?
Does it even matter?

Call it coincidental or call it fate
It all seems to be the same damn thing to me anyway..
And, at the end of the day..
Destiny is a sick and twisted humerus bitch..
And you're now a part of me forever.

Like, a purposeless cognitive function,
You're forever engraved into my brain..

Like your favorite old oak tree that still bares our initials to this day..a
Youre forever carved into my bones...

Forever etched into my skin like a tattoo
And one one day I will look down and notice you're fade to blue
And one day, I will fade too and we will eventually disintegrate together.

So, call it coincidence or call it fate...
you're pieced into me someway, somehow..
Perfectly tailored in somewhere like a jigsaw piece 
In a fucked up, puzzle piled mess of everything that is me...

I suppose it's pointless now.. 
To keep questioning the,
Who, whats, why, when, where's and how..

Because the unmoving, unsettling fact that I can't let you go stilll remains relentless in my brain..

So, while we're here...
While I'm still able to breath you in...
I want to make, mend and mold you into something special...

There's a few  things I had in mind... 

I had hopes that I could make you into a reflex...
That way every time I stubbed my pinky toe, I'd cuss out your name
Because God damn it, that shit really hurts...

Or maybe when the doctor walks in during an early Saturday morning, pointless routine check-up and taps my knee with a mallet he pulled from his left, white coat pocket...I'll have a thought of you while he awkwardly jokes about golf, girls and questions my diet, your firey eyes and the wooden heart that's somehow still beating inside this rusted, decaying chest of mine.. 

But if I could really choose something for you, I'd mend you into a super power and shoot you like lasers from my eyeballs that way everyone I saw would know what Johnny cash meant when he said love would burn.
They would feel it too as we go down, down, down.. that burning ring.

There's a part of you in every passing thought I have...
A small piece of you scattered throughout every single letter of every mumbled breath of a word I somehow manage to spew out from my throat, roll off my tongue and send passed my lips in a pathetic yet, poetic sequence that only makes sense like this...

Like the one time I stayed out all night, getting drenched in the midnight dew, Counting every single meteor and comet from a deflating air mattress with you.

That was the same night I saw those same numbered stars in your eyes while I spiraled the vast, beautiful galaxy of your mind.

That was the same night I found beauty in your breakdown and only wanted to help build you back up.

And I meant every word...p

And you cried....

And I tried and kept trying, I swear I fucking tried until one day I just didn't anymore..    

Morning came and I woke up alone.
I suppose you followed the sun down and retired along with stars and moon leaving me soaked in morning dew.

That's when I realized I was hired by lies...
and my job at the people factory was only a temporary, substitute position...

So, I quit. 

Nevertheless, there was something to be found in each of us.
And if we were both maps, I explored, uncovered and treasured every inch of you as I laid raveled, collecting dust under your mattress ...untouched, undiscovered....
While the entirety of who you are and what you're made of is here, anchored in my dark blue shallows...

I hate to admit that I hate every fucking bit of this...
I hate that i fucking miss you and us and all of the would'ves and could'ves and everything that used to be and every little thing in between that should've been but isn't.
Because youre selfish and impatient and far too busy counting the planets that orbit your narcissistical waist.

You grew tired of me and also quit your job at the factory when you found me to be nothing more than a disappointing letdown when I simply couldn't compare..
You refused to understand or listen...
and no longer cared to..

You called me a fake and poured all the fault into me...

With every ounce of guilt and shame you could find or dig up,
You filled me to the brim and made me out to be every right reason for everything wrong...

I still carry the weight of it to this day, with shakey legs and all..

Lately I've been finding little holes of hope and promises riddled within me that you made sure to seal up tight along with my confidence, dignity and social skills. 

Now, with every pulled plug, Ill drain out onto the floor..

Little by little you too will pour out and become a water soaked rug of faded memories stitched at the seams in regret and I won't remember you, your name or the glass house you once built within me.

So for now, here's my stake in you. .

What will you make of me? 
How will I define you?

Bury me deep inside your mnd....
I hope you think of me without ever really having to think of me..

I'll be a plague of visceral, second-nature thoughts that torment you by the minute... 
A reminder for all you've done and haven't done..

I know now that the monsters we run, hide and cowar from are only a blurred reflection.. sometimes a projected selfish creation.. 
We make, mend and mold them and we can tear them down just the damn same.

Today I got a call from the people factory...
They asked me to come back in on Monday..

Again, I told them I was done and i wasn't interested in that line of work anymore..

Tomorrow I start a new job.

Tomorrow I begin building up myself.



The People Factory
-Matt Pitt