Who am I kidding? I saw it coming from a mile away. That 18 wheeler of "you're not good enoughs" and "not now, but maybe laters" had sideswiped me and I feel like I let it. In my rear view I can replay it so clearly. Horn blaring and lights flashing all the signs for a disaster were present and now I'm here on the side of the road laying in a pool of myself with my emotional entrails in my hands. Is it weird I feel warm? I can feel myself baking in the hot sun. I can feel my heart beating to the beat of the song still playing on the radio. I maybe in the midst of a disaster but I can still find solace and beauty in the breakdown of things. I get to lay what I'm made of out on the table and examine every piece of me that wasn't worth the fight. The autopsy will read like this, he was a fine young man. 5'11 when he wanted to impress someone 5'10 when no one was asking. He didn't die but here he lay in our morgue. His heart still beats but his old life lay on the table. Your smile was shattered in several places, probably do to my attitude. Your patience suffered several lacerations which the doctors believe to be due to the pressure of being with me. I watched all of these conclusions find their place on the report from my ghostly corner, still carrying my heart, still beating to some ghastly tune still playing on the radio. I am silent and still. Still thinking about being better and still laying on the table while the doctors probe and find out more about me than me myself. The funny thing is as empty as I feel, as lonely as you left me, that's where I find peace. You forget that alone is how you met me. I found company amongst the buzzards and as they peeled me back layer by layer just like these lab coats I saw what I was made of, I saw underneath all the bullshit, I was always the man you wanted, you just didn't.
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