You watch helpless
as i burn
and demand to know
who did it
but how can I say

It was you
who lit the match

i've learned the hard way
that life will never be
as beautiful as poetry
and that we will never be
as perfect as we sound
when squished between
similes and metaphors
so while we don't fit together
quite as well as puzzle pieces
and you sometimes
might not complete me
as well as a cup of coffee
my hand still feels
quite nice in yours

and i don't need a poem to say that

you always know
when to point out
the beautiful things
you just always seem
to forget about yourself

Now I know
How betrayal feels
To be burned
By your very source of light

Loving you
Is like drowning
Reaching for the brim
Waiting for you to help me
Instead of learning how to swim

I cuff our wrists together
and tell myself
you're deciding to stay

If love is a two way street
I'm the person on the sidewalk