You see, I have this habit
Of building bridges
When I should be making moats

I forced myself to stop loving you
Because holding on was suffocating
Urban ivy, forgiving fists
I forced myself to stop loving you
Until it worked,
until I hated you in every way I never wanted to

you burn me.

and it isn’t anyone’s
fault but mine.

i gave you the match
in the first place.

You play the victim well
Beg for sympathy where you know you’ll get it
As if you aren’t the galvanizer of the hell that you live in
Present yourself as the sad boy
With the broken heart
Left alone with no one to love
As if you didn’t isolate yourself
The destructor of each and every single relationship
Like a tornado
Blowing through all that once was happy
I have no sympathy for you, lonely boy
Just a hope
That one day you’ll open your eyes
And end your pity party

Not an ounce of anger
nor arden rage
which typically fill the pages.
There’s a subtle calm
causing such hesitation;
a sense of being stuck.
-Restless, drifting
in a sea of tranquility.