Responsible For Bread Crumbs

by matthewmousekewitz

I think I came to watch her sleep.
Since lights turn on so quietly,
I flipped the switch to sneak her dreams
outside with me.

Some of my thoughts are subtle enough
to slip the filters and
stretch like dead fingers
Because in the deep is where trouble sleeps
and rears its filthy head.

Somebody once told me to stop hiding, and until recently I didn’t believe that I could be anything other than ordinary. She was no better than I, and I pitied her, and I kissed her anyways, and I told her she was all I ever needed and she believed me for at least one night because I felt that trust and slept alright beside her.
When things started slipping so did I, echoing myself as if expired words worked like glue on broken organs. But the keys stuck together until I could no longer make out the song I tried to play. We were dissonant before she even left and I thank whoever is responsible for all of it, because I get a sick kind of happiness from watching things die slowly.
I’m a lowly type of holy