Slammed

Something here I wrote a little while back...

I wake up halfway
In a half of a full bed.
The half-drawn blinds
Send half of the sun's rays
Streaming, piercing
The half-dark corners
Of my half-open eyes.
I half-heartedly listen
To half of the words
Of half of my professors
(because I can't even pretend to care
about the other half).

And while half of me is moving on
The other half is STILL
Indivisibly, inextricably
Caught in the memories you chained
Over, around, and through my mind,
Like a boa constrictor on acid
Constraining the breaths
And commanding my thoughts
So that I have as much a chance
As an obsessive compulsive
Anal retentive slam poet does at making a point...
At moving on.

And maybe the worst part of all of this
Is that I don't know whether you
know or don't know
How no matter how far I walk away
Or how high I find myself on any given day,
If I were in the land of milk and honey,
Angels descending from the heavens,
Half blaring trumpets
And half strumming harps
You could still yank my brain out
Through my ears
With one tug on my phone line.
If you know, then you're a bastard,
And if you don't know,
How the Hell Could You NOT Know?

You were the one who made me care,
You were the one who told me not to let go,
You were the one who moved away from me in certainty,
And who moved toward me in fear.

And I keep telling myself,
OVER and over that this isn’t how it should be,
That I have to break free,
That the chains around my mind
Are nowhere but in my mind,
That the worst I could do by letting go
Is reclaim and repair and re-mend
The tissue that YOU tore
Every day you called
And every night you didn’t.

But if you look past my logic,
Quiet the flood of the free-flowing frenzy,
And look only to the shouts...
I’m