She’s not my type
But  then again
She also isn’t you

So maybe I’m wrong
Again

I just hope you’ll never be cruel enough
To place me in a box
And throw me in with all of the other misfortunes you’ve stored away

Because
I never touched your skin
And made you flinch
I never kissed your lips
with false intentions
I never held your hand
Thinking I’d ever have to let it go
I would have never left you
In the dirt
On your knees
Begging for you to stay

I never did anything other than love you, and you know it.
So please
Don’t ever place me in a box
And tell people that
“We just didn’t work out”.

Why does the sun still shine after it rains?
Why do the flowers grow after the seasons change?
Why does blood still flow through punctured veins?

I suppose when you ask someone why they let go of a life,
you’d have to first ask yourself..
why they fought death in the first place.

Growth. Beauty. Love.

These are the things we stay alive for.

My heart is buried somewhere beneath my mattress and my mind is hung by a noose from the blades of my ceiling fan.

I’m tired of pressing my ears against my bed sheets only to hear the echo of your voice.

I hate the thought of confusing the scent of your perfume with the dead roses I have placed along my mantel

My room is a mausoleum
Housing the body of a girl
No one could love

You’re a murderer

And my room is a tomb
It’s a crypt for the broken soul
Of a martyr

If you mix ***** and lies
With talk of
Broken promises
And cutting ties

You get silver tongues
Of angry drunks
Who boil blood
And **** the young

When I realized that I didn’t want to love you anymore, I realized that I probably never did.