he told me that my voice sounded like the chiming of church bells,
hauntingly beautiful and sure.
he told me that i tasted like the skin of a grapefruit,
sweet then sour
not long before i became tough.
i never knew what to make of that.
he told me that i felt like a rose petal,
soft and delicate
fragile enough to rip with the twisting of fingers
but strong enough to make it through the storm.
and through everything
i thought it was love,
i thought he took my breath away
but really i was suffocating on his empty words.
what i never told him
but will now,
is that
church bells scare me
i hate grapefruit
and i am stronger than a flower,
strong enough to survive the storm
that was him.

Always on the run,
running from everything.
Never pleased, never happy,
just lost in your own way.
Can't sleep, cant breath;
everything is pushing in.
Everything seems to be gone while your
stuck,
stuck in the wind.
Stuck in your own mind.

As I try to get better,
Fighting hordes of darkness,
Slurring through words, letter by letter,
Praying someone will hear my cries.

As I try to get better,
Wrestling my restless mind,
Trying to figure out what’s the matter,
Attempting my painful self-therapy.

Now thinking I’m better,
A short-lived burst of happiness takes over,
Just glad I’d met her,
Dancing wildly to the laughter of friends,

I think I’m over her,
Thinking I can finally rest,
A killer stare fuelled by hate and anger,
Tears a hole in my once-mended chest.

From wanting friendship to realising I’ll never get her,
Please someone, help me get better.