7pm

They say I hate you,
But I never really did.
All I do is suffocate my sadness into nothing at all - like you taught me;
Because I don't know what else to do.
I see grief everywhere around me;
In 7 pm,
In cans of Appalachia,
In my neighbors cigarette smell, 
In bones that ache with motor oil,
In Redstone from that granite quarry,
In the blood that runs through riverbanks
In Ants through cracks of concrete,
Carrying away the world, 
Home,
Broken,
And dead.
And all you ever did was haunt me.
Hold me so tight that my voice Fizzled, 
Cracked,
Reached for nothing at all.
Sometimes I wish you were buried when things were perfect.
When I'd believed you'd live forever
When you'd hold me tight like the Red Clover
When life was a thousand shards of heaven through my little brown eyes
When your love didn't hurt, 
And tear, 
And suffocate
And die…
I wonder if you were always this way.
And when I dream of us all I can do is cry.
All I can do is cry.