Miles Missing

Miles Missing

Being that man that stands in the background of a painting

In a portrait of the life bled in his hands brushed out in his blood

Sketching outlines of a wife and her best friend wandering the

Confines of his bed like marmosets wrestling in furry black tails

Of times retold in measured scales of silence

Of self eliminated master pieces, affronts to shed guilt like a plastic

Façade veneer to appear over every subsequent syllable to counteract

Adultery accusations with anger and rampage and the battle cries

Of every night was so seriously waged to prevent my own mistakes

From causing this divide, as if the rodents weren’t crawling

And the battle hasn’t flied over my own bed in an affair of dreams

Emotional distance in between her skin miles gone missing

Fear in years packed in and listed as no one’s belongings in her mind

Taking ownership of nothing here, mind away miles missing

So hard to remember any face that asked for me

That needed my hands to hold skin and breathe in

Skipping and printing my blacked-out face in the background

She can stay in town, needing no one but pride

Damage me and dance with him