"His glass moves.
He doesn't hear your words, but he sees you."
I narrate these scenes I seem to spin through.
I drink again to drive away these blues,
to dream about a beach
where I keep you at arms length.
She's gone.
She leaves with the reasons why I'm wrong,
the grocery list that's greater getting long,
the booze that smokes and circles around the song
she always loved to teach.
I'll keep her at arms length.
They're here.
They tell me that the want to make it so clear,
regale me with the greatest of their fears.
I love them more than the total of my tears,
but I'm out of reach.
I'll keep them at arms length.
I can't stand
this life I've carried through the gritty sand,
the piss, the shit, these squandered rubber bands,
the expectations coursing through my hands,
bruises through the breach.
I'll keep them at arms length.
"He thinks
about the ice cubes floating in his drink,
the blood he just coughed up in the sink,
the day he won't know how to blink,
sheets that smell like bleach.
He keeps it at arms length."
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