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Description
I felt my way around the city with eyes held closed,

Counting the number of streetlights as they highlighted the blood in my lids.

I bobbed my head in tune with the music, lips shaping the words to a song.

You reached for me at a stoplight –we're an intersection away from my home.

I responded not, resisted not, existed not in that moment.

Your empty fingertips skim the outline of my jaw, and you question my silence.

I excused my solemnity as exhaustion, and you swallowed this lie with a smile.

Right then and there I knew I was not to find me in you.

You see, I've been trying to find my self in places I shouldn't be looking.

When I dig my nails into your back, I'm peeling away your skin, layer by layer,

            trying to find my self under muscle, sinew and bone.

When I pull you close against my chest, I'm hoping to catch my

            heart on your sleeve.

When I smother myself in your scent, I'm hoping to smoke out a bit of me.

I've overturn wedding rings and hotel sheets to find me.

I've clambered past lovers and tunneled through fabrics to coax me from within.

I've tried to pull my self from your pores, but only sweat beads upon your chest.

I'm determined to find something I've never known.

But I am not here, not here in this bed,

Waiting in vain for you to show me to myself through the merging of bodies.

I will not find myself in another's arms, yet I've tumbled from one person to another,

Twisting, sighing, groaning, writhing under the weight of another failed attempt.

I felt my way around your apartment with mascara smeared under my eyes,

            Counting the time left before you wake to find me gone.

My head throbbed in time with the steps on the pavement.

I'm left empty-handed, empty-headed, empty-hearted, and persistent

To find my self where I shall never be.

Description
I felt my way around the city with eyes held closed,

Counting the number of streetlights as they highlighted the blood in my lids.

I bobbed my head in tune with the music, lips shaping the words to a song.

You reached for me at a stoplight –we're an intersection away from my home.

I responded not, resisted not, existed not in that moment.

Your empty fingertips skim the outline of my jaw, and you question my silence.

I excused my solemnity as exhaustion, and you swallowed this lie with a smile.

Right then and there I knew I was not to find me in you.

You see, I've been trying to find my self in places I shouldn't be looking.

When I dig my nails into your back, I'm peeling away your skin, layer by layer,

            trying to find my self under muscle, sinew and bone.

When I pull you close against my chest, I'm hoping to catch my

            heart on your sleeve.

When I smother myself in your scent, I'm hoping to smoke out a bit of me.

I've overturn wedding rings and hotel sheets to find me.

I've clambered past lovers and tunneled through fabrics to coax me from within.

I've tried to pull my self from your pores, but only sweat beads upon your chest.

I'm determined to find something I've never known.

But I am not here, not here in this bed,

Waiting in vain for you to show me to myself through the merging of bodies.

I will not find myself in another's arms, yet I've tumbled from one person to another,

Twisting, sighing, groaning, writhing under the weight of another failed attempt.

I felt my way around your apartment with mascara smeared under my eyes,

            Counting the time left before you wake to find me gone.

My head throbbed in time with the steps on the pavement.

I'm left empty-handed, empty-headed, empty-hearted, and persistent

To find my self where I shall never be.