we diminish;
fading softly into the walls
of this sour stillness,
fermenting in the hours
of a dark morning.
life will carry your mind away,
hiding your memory in the weeds
for the sunrise to replace
with a certian heartache
(you'll never breathe parchment again).
we all spin and settle in the bottom
of this bottle
like lost constellations
falling in eccentricity
only to realize something we never were.
i would beg you to miss me,
but it's already killing you that you do.