Fallacies in Soiled Tuxedoes

 i counted the seconds. not really caring how they would become minutes. hours. years. 

the sober worked its way under my skin. staining every crevice.

the villains spun their fables. as our breadcrumbs were taken by the wind. 

lost. we chewed on those candy houses. seduced by the empty sweetness. 

overwhelmed by the fairy tales of flesh. 

there is no last page. the story doesn't have a finish. 

it only simmers in our blood. until the cold erases us. 

there is no reason. we're only gamblers. addicted to the possibility. 

there is no winning. just the deepening creases in our skin. and all the words we don't say.