the drunken colors of today/peace? (a jumbled, mumbled flock of poems)

i bit my nails off short again,
slammed once more to the wall.
i peeked back at you,
grimaced and sighed,
and remembered all we had been.

[sick to my stomach,
sick in my head,
dirt-rotten hangover,
drinking up love again.
i went too far,
too far to tell,
until it was over,
and i was too drunk to care.
but then it hurt,
and i refused,
refused to love like that again.]

time will tell if my nails grow back,
if my heart returns,
and i can love again.
clean up the blood,
and heal these scars,
hope once more,
and be fulfilled.

{the love of before,
of bliss and becomings,
was brazen and wine,
the warmth and the fire of touch.

the future was blank,
rough blacks and harsh whites,
waiting for us to fill in the color.
but no, now it stays, forever in starkness.

the present is clashing,
colliding, and crazy.
a jumble of neon,
until.. it is softened.}

i realize now, now after my moving,
that this was the right way to go.
i can see clearly, see cleanly,
its soft on my eyes, and now, i see, we may rest.

rest apart, but resting the same,
a forever-long break is welcomed
and wholesome.
we've finally found our peace.