My infatuation for you, is so much more than an infatuation for you. It’s an apology..
An empathy.
I’m sorry that the pretty girls don’t get crushes on you
But at least I do.
I’m sorry that I’m too shy to hold your hand
But I doubt you’d want me to.
I’m sorry that You don’t like me,
But I’m still here for you
I’m sorry that I’m so clingy,
But my social skills are not on que.
I’m sorry that I dress like this,
I wake up half asleep.
I’m sorry that I cut my hair,
I do it as I weep.
I’m sorry that I fall so hard,
My heart I cannot keep.
And I’m sorry that I’m drowning, love,
I’m sunken in so deep.
I’m sorry that I sing so much,
I know that it’s off key.
And I’m sorry that I love so loud,
For everyone to see.
I’m sorry that you don’t like me,
Or us together we
But the one thing I refuse to say,
Is “I’m sorry I’m me”

Wash away your expectations of me using soap and water.
I will sharpen my teeth
And weaponize my words
If it will force you to understand
How lovely it is to hate you
I was not born with such truth
To hand feed you lies

Maybe it was the way that she stepped on every
Crack,
Bump,
Stick,
Pebble,
Rock,
Boulder,
Mountain;
That got me so addicted to the way she lay peacefully upon the grass

And in that last fight that we had
I thought that maybe
Just maybe
If I slammed that door hard enough,
It would awaken something inside of you.
Something that tells you to stay.
And in despair,
I shattered every window in sight,
Punched holes in all of your walls,
And broke the hinges on your bedroom door

The first time I ever cut myself,
I remember thinking that it was okay
Because I knew my mother did it to herself when she was younger.
The last time I ever cut myself,
I remember thinking that I couldn’t live with myself
If my child cut them self because I did when I was younger.

It gets so much worse
When I lay in bed at night
And my heart begs me to call you
Or even just a text
And my mind screams self control
And I’m stuck in the middle of it all

When; im with
(You)
I forget-how, to. Speak
“Write”
And think!
Everything? Becomes: an illusion