Sep 2014
You questioned god with your arms clasped in prayer and track marks riddling your forearm;
Rather than reply to my I love you's, You stuck ******* so far up your throat, that you vomited the sunrise. Even when your body only shook and convulsed with nothing left to offer, your insides were still crusted diamonds in the making and I still value your mind more than I do most things.
Try not to choke on your own disappointment, at the memory of the rows of little red flowers that you planted on your arms.
Soon enough your wrists will forgive you and take back the angry slashes you skillfully decorated them with.
I'm sorry .
That you desperately needed to cling to something stable and instead of me you chose cigarettes. Being able to rely on the feeling every inhale would bring, expanding your lungs and inviting the enslavement of yet another addiction..
How is it all ok, how is it all just fine, when here I am six shots later and I'm still staring at my hands attempting to remember what it felt like to hold you; questioning whether the pins and needles in my limbs are my cue to dump myself into some strange bed, or a stabbing relic of you, coming back to taunt me.
I do not know the love they speak of , nor do I think I am deserving of it, but every shot of tequila catches in my throat and the droplets left on the corners of my mouth spell out your name. Is this not love?
I spend my time with other lovers seeing all their birth marks and rearranging them in my mind to where I know yours are, instead of bothering to learn their names. Excuse me if I cannot tear my eyes away from sunsets, unable to understand how your intensity surpasses theirs.
Unable to comprehend how a love as hungry as mine, could not have been enough for you.
Addicted to everything but the one thing I could have given you in abundance ,How dare you **** the extraordinary out of my veins by proclaiming me too mundane to deserve a spot on your trophy mantel? You wanted a love that could move mountains but I will not apologize for my mortal constraints
It should have been enough that all I wanted for the rest of my life was to call you home. Willing to spend my every minute dusting the darkest corners of your twisted mind, replacing the cobwebs with a bit of myself. You were my safe house, if anything because you we're neither safe nor a house and all my life I had been running from the essence of both safety and home. I dug myself a hole in your rapidly beating heart, only to be rejected by your body, our blood types didn't match, so unwanted and dejected I took my broken finger nails and tried again.
I realize now that my feelings for you would never cause a rush to your brain causing temporary ecstasy, and that no matter what i would never cause every colour to be brighter and every moment to feel wider...so maybe it's better that you became addicted to everything but me, for I would not have had enough to offer and you would have inevitably consumed me
Rather than reply to my I love you's, You stuck ******* so far up your throat, that you vomited the sunrise. Even when your body only shook and convulsed with nothing left to offer, your insides were still crusted diamonds in the making and I still value your mind more than I do most things.
Try not to choke on your own disappointment, at the memory of the rows of little red flowers that you planted on your arms.
Soon enough your wrists will forgive you and take back the angry slashes you skillfully decorated them with.
I'm sorry .
That you desperately needed to cling to something stable and instead of me you chose cigarettes. Being able to rely on the feeling every inhale would bring, expanding your lungs and inviting the enslavement of yet another addiction..
How is it all ok, how is it all just fine, when here I am six shots later and I'm still staring at my hands attempting to remember what it felt like to hold you; questioning whether the pins and needles in my limbs are my cue to dump myself into some strange bed, or a stabbing relic of you, coming back to taunt me.
I do not know the love they speak of , nor do I think I am deserving of it, but every shot of tequila catches in my throat and the droplets left on the corners of my mouth spell out your name. Is this not love?
I spend my time with other lovers seeing all their birth marks and rearranging them in my mind to where I know yours are, instead of bothering to learn their names. Excuse me if I cannot tear my eyes away from sunsets, unable to understand how your intensity surpasses theirs.
Unable to comprehend how a love as hungry as mine, could not have been enough for you.
Addicted to everything but the one thing I could have given you in abundance ,How dare you **** the extraordinary out of my veins by proclaiming me too mundane to deserve a spot on your trophy mantel? You wanted a love that could move mountains but I will not apologize for my mortal constraints
It should have been enough that all I wanted for the rest of my life was to call you home. Willing to spend my every minute dusting the darkest corners of your twisted mind, replacing the cobwebs with a bit of myself. You were my safe house, if anything because you we're neither safe nor a house and all my life I had been running from the essence of both safety and home. I dug myself a hole in your rapidly beating heart, only to be rejected by your body, our blood types didn't match, so unwanted and dejected I took my broken finger nails and tried again.
I realize now that my feelings for you would never cause a rush to your brain causing temporary ecstasy, and that no matter what i would never cause every colour to be brighter and every moment to feel wider...so maybe it's better that you became addicted to everything but me, for I would not have had enough to offer and you would have inevitably consumed me
