i have a lot of words in my head and woe in my heart that won't quite make it through to you

My concepts don’t involve
Lines, theorems and tangents.
They involve unwashed sheets,
The weak heartbeats,
And the halfhearted farewells.

From what I can tell
Your breath stains my consciousness,
Red wine on the carpet.
Broken glass on the coffee table.
Did you mean to lay me out?

The final strike
But I never claimed to be a boxer.
I’m smashing
At the bob and weave,
Avoid your questions with a
Natural ease.

How many is it?
One, two or three?
I throw as many jabs
As that girl over there,
Why are we so lonely out there?

We’ve got the crowd like millions
Of blood cells pumping adrenaline,
But all I see are the ropes
And you
Always you

Why am I so lonely in here?
Coated in sweat and misery,
I’m boxing in my own head,
One box at a time.