~I'm sleepy~

When your lungs are burning from
your arguments and rivers of tears going down your
face are slowly building up into solids that
look like dry vertical lines which
are mistaken for wrinkles,
You think 'damn I need to talk to someone.
Anyone.'
Maybe even a cigarette.'
But that isn't good for you.
People cannot handle it.
Then you get your shit together
and think.
Why the hell were we fighting?
Only you don't ask out loud,
it just sizzles and burns into
your skin
slowly.
Just like all the words, the fucks
the shits, the assholes being thrown around.
The disappointments spewing like hot lava from your erupting lips
that are going faster than a sewing machine
and then you break-
down.
With sighs of gasping breathes and
tears.
No one comes out victorious in arguments,
those are battles that should never be fought.
They always say no one is on a winning side in war.
Only our wars feel much more personal.
It's never about winning or losing now.
We come out of it barely breathing or thinking straight and
leave with some wounds that will definitely turn into scars.
Apologies can only go so far and even if the point has been
received it's too late to erase all the destruction that has been caused.
No one wins in wars,
no one wins in arguments.
Not that anyone cares anymore.