Twin salt shakers

obscured in almost every sense this ultimate sum of grey matter that has been working in overdrive to sort out this seemingly endless dillema, cant even begin because the problem has not even been identified. i have squandered endlessley to find some sort of external catalyst to point the finger at but the only deeper wounds were cut, wounds that are sure to surface as inexplicably obvious scars. i refuse to weep, grief in the form of salty liquids are held back because i want to wallow in this brief moment, feel its absolute penetration through my stubborn ego until i cannot bear it any longer, illiciting a brute force ambition to take action. childlike tantrums, foolish actions out of desperation all in all quite patheticly strung together exposing my weaknesses. i suppose this is what happens when you cling to the ugly bitter end trying to milk out whatever you can out of a fantasy turned real even if it is only momentary. perhaps because it is momentary i choose to cling? but if this is true then why would i set myself up for such an epic fail? you have proven to have been one of the greatest teachers in my life, lessons ingrained slipped in your package of mischief, constantly switching hands always one step behind eachothers footsteps, spiralling out into ying yang oblivion. regardless of any compromisations made at the top of this tower, neither of us took heed the faulty foundations. now that i look back i cant seem to find anything solid to base it upon other than pure infatuation and the longing to love and be loved. seperated by qualities fixed we were like oil and water, beautiful patterns are created at our encoutners and clashings but never once do they mix. we reacted like two potent and unstable elements, a failed experiment of one magalomaniac scientist who thinks with grandeur. niether of us wanted what the other offered and i felt it reached proportions of forcefeeding our selfish doctrines, projecting that abuse that would have otherwise been self inflicted. with opposing natures there is no right or wrong, just perspective, light and dark, children of the same seed. in our own right both of our intentions were pure regardless of the head on clash from the extremeties that our ugly selves managed to conjure. i mark you with the crosshairs of a howitzer that fires 20mm rounds of pure undying respect for your decision, its the best way for me to defeat emotional attatchment. no mans land lays in utter waste peppered with craters of each missfire, the trench lines trade hands more frequently than a hipster changes fads. progression at this moment is stalemate. half assed goodbyes indeed. but damn, im fresh out of someone to dance with....


i was the salt and yous was the peppa