Tired Of Us

I need you to hear this
"Devon..I don't have time for this shit..it's like what?" "What do you even want?"
I want you to hear this poem
“Devon it's like 3 in the morning i'm tired of this shit..i'm tired of us”
“Like fuck you make me out to be this crazy evil bitch”
“But I’m just done Devon...I’m done”
Are you even there?
Devon?

My mind like my hands all intertwined and confined
By a far away memory i'm struggling to see
Late night eyes on the wall same old same old
Night time reservations
In the dark I reach strange destinations
The back alley was alive with the souls drifting home
With full bellies and warm faces
Some getting lucky
Others heading home to a good jam
And a solo cigarette with plenty regret
Regardless, this is how each night played out

I got a chip on my shoulder that feels more like a boulder
Having trouble swallowing the fact i'll never hold her.
Again and again AND AGAIN
so much self destruction amongst my fellow men
I'm staring out my window at a whisper
And covering my eyes as it turns into a yell
Words flying back and forth slicing skin in this hell
Fists fly and little boys cry
I try and shout! I try and try and try
But the little boys they cry
And those fists they fly.

Tired of us.
She says she's tired of us.
Hands clasped
She's standing by the door.
Waiting for something to be said.
Leave
LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE
If you must.
Leave if you must.

Off my chest I wish you the best
But from the bottom of my heart I want a fresh start.
When the breath was heavy
The hugs they were tight.
The love it was fierce
The stars shone bright.
They served to illuminate the night.
This was when we were alive
Before you got tired.
Tired of us.

“Devon. Are you even there man”
“Look up my brother, look where you are”
“The club man! Take a look around”
“Go find yourself a little slut to take home tonight”

With hands at my back.
I caught your eye
And I'm guilty of wanting and not wanting at the same time.
No better than the last.
I'm a well-dressed reminder of the past.
Out to hurt.
Cause she's tired of us.
And i'm tired of this.

But you'll twist those hips.
And i'll put my hands on your body.
With lust first and thought second.
Clothes bundled up in a far away corner of the room.
Passion first.
Perspective later.

“Devon buddy! Saw you heading home with that hottie last night”
“How was it man?”
“You’re not still hung up on -------- are you man?”
What does it matter? She’s tired of us
“Who cares man! You got some didn’t you?”
“Devon?”
“Are you even there?”

Off my chest I wish you the best
But from the bottom of my heart I want a fresh start.
When the breath was heavy
The hugs they were tight.
The love it was fierce
The stars shone bright.
They served to illuminate the night.
This was when we were alive
Before you got tired.
Tired of us.

-d.r