Counting to infinity

I have a crooked shaped face.
I have a crooked jaw.
Sometimes the words that escape from under my tongue
are also just as lopsidedly flawed.

Some of the clicks and the pauses
are awkward, mistimed, or long.
I’ve perfected the expression
of my love, but I perfected it wrong.

So it goes as they say,
what a hackneyed phrase, so fuck that.
“So it goes” can go shovel it’s own grave;
make it big enough for me to fit too.
I probably touched your heart in the wrong place.
I wanted to though, so it’s okay.
Curious george died with my adolescent age
so go the fuck away,
and take your emotive guessing game.

I have a mad lazy eye.
It’s like I’m always looking away, even from myself.
I pick the scabs off my mind
and count them carefully one at a time,
I’m at infinity and fifty five,
believe me, this is unhealthy, I’ve realized.
I have my scars memorized.
It doesn’t take many hollow nights
to go fucking mental
over the same lines.
The same lines
The same lines
same lines
same lines
lines
lines
line
lie
Don’t I look fine?

Counting to infinity

Nathan Emery

Joined September 2009

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