Blades hang because you look just like me,
threatening through reflective glass,
but I don't see them,
I just inhale the foggy air.
There aren't enough moments,
or maybe too many have already passed.
Fingerprints cut holes in dull grime,
and shining was never an option.
I watched the stars of fatality
illuminate dim city lights,
but I don't need you,
I just haven't accepted it.
There aren't enough dealers,
or maybe too many casinos were built.
Kings and aces have caught fire,
and some flames cannot be extinguished.
More overdramatic sound effects
deafen everyone around you,
but I know better,
I just have more bad ideas.
There aren't enough exits,
or maybe I'm still too high to find them all.
Each relapse increases volume,
and I may never stop listening.
I picked up too many bad habits
and everything they've said is true,
but I don't miss you,
I just haven't recovered yet.
There aren't enough stitches,
or maybe I'm too old to do it again.
Persuasion corrupts flirtation,
and learning to fail was effortless.