Nausea

I never thought I'd make it through that night,
Without shedding a tear.
I didn't think I could bear the sound of emptiness
that responded everytime I called.
The tarantula like thoughts in my head,
Yakning me in eight directions at once
Began to get the best of me, ripping apart my urge to fight being impulsive.
There were no brightly lit metaphors to give me hope
Just you, your lies and gimmicks.
No wonder the quest for those abstract qualities is so much more rewarding;
Than the possession of a tangible but hollow casket.
I gave everything, and gained nothing except knowledge
Monogamy is a myth. Sensitivity fossilized. Communication lies barren.
If only words meant something and actions didn't decieve.
If only mental wavelengths were clubbed together at the start
without the risk of a mismatched collision.
If only Time came with a manual and a full refund.
I suppose there's a reason why rollercoasters start off slow,
Chuggin its way to an accelerated descent only to propel the riders into a freefall of no promises.
I should have started slow, long enough to find the eject button in the darkness you projected.
But now that I'm on the ride, I carry my own paper bags to nurse the nausea!