I have not and never will be the girl of your dreams. There will be days when I will hardly be your girl at all. That’s why I tell you that I’m no good because I want you to know it.
It’s not because I will not love you nor is it because I will leave. It’s because I may hold your heart too tight and crush it without notice or care. Or sometimes it will seem like I was never even there. I have a tendency to burn myself by holding flames that should never have been lit in the first place.
I have burns in places that are scarred memories of the time I let myself burn where memories had withered, yet I stood until I was nearly ash.
Please believe me when I say that I will not leave you. That is to say that when I do, it’s not because I did not love you. It’s because I loved you more than myself and did not want you to know me anymore than you do now.
I am no good. I am afraid to love you as your smile screams to me like gasoline and I’m an untamed flame waiting for a spark. Your heart burns like a candle wick and I’m just looking for a reason to see in the dark.
when they said his name, I didn’t think of the way his hand touched mine. for a second I forgot about the words I spit from my mouth when his tried to taste my tongue. no, I thought of when he spoke your name and asked what I saw in you. I remember that night you kept me safe when his hungry eyes saw me as nothing more than a mouse to chase. I may not remember that night, but I’ll never forget that in my darkest hours you were my light. I was the match and you were my flame. now you’re nothing but a burned out wick and I’m smoke in the wind. memories of us have began to fade but I’ll never forget how we burned together.
dear god, we could have set the world on fire.
What used to be an open embrace has become crossed arms and a cold face. I used to call you home, even though you are no place.
With staggered breathing, I’ve ran out of room to run. Back faced into a corner, left to deal with what I’ve done.
Driven you away which I knew would happen before we’d begun. We had never begun, I was so enticed with the run I forgot to take in my surroundings.
So I had never noticed you were never more than a blur I created due to my hallucinations, medicated. Induce by euphoria and the fear of being lonesome. Instead of building memories I decided to grow some, in the garden of my mind.
Constantly telling myself that I’m fine, but how fine can one be if it’s something to you have to constantly remind.
But I’d rather comfortably sit in the garden that I’ve grown, than face the reality that I’m truly alone.
Does the river run red?
Is it soft like the burning of your bloodshot eyes?
Is it wrong of me
to want to wander along the riverbed,
hoping to fall in?
Red rivers can’t stain what’s already covered in the stain of something that’s bled.
My taste for danger is never
which led to my spitting of
words late at night.
Only this time I’m unsure if you’ll return.
Did my words burn like the
feeling of flame to skin?
If so I’m familiar with
the singe left behind.
Touching the wound will never let it heal,
I’m not worried about that.
I’m worried that I can’t feel.
Take my advice, leave it be and I’ll try to do the same.
I’ll find a taste of danger elsewhere, away from your pain.