I lost count of the nights you waste just reconnecting the stars
and retracing the steps you took that led you to where you are now.

You are here, with me.
It’s 3 o’clock in the morning and you are here, with me.
It’s 3 o’clock in the morning and you are crying,
and you are here, with me.

It’s 3 o’clock in the morning and never have I wanted to
dig your flesh so badly, to see if you still had it in you.
To see if you’re still as strong as the woman who
dismembered me that night I saw her crack a smile.
Never have I wanted to fall apart.

But now, you crave for love like the flowers
I carelessly planted in our backyard,
"you’re the worst gardener," you said.

and you were right.

Still, you loved me just the same;
you loved me all too well.
you loved loving more than the gods
loved reminding me to be gentle and kind.

I tried loving you just as much.
I really did.

But now, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning
and you are here with me and you are crying,
like an empty vessel waiting,
wanting to be filled.

It’s 3 o’clock in the morning,
and you are here with me,
and you are crying,
and you are empty,
forgive me.

Stop. Stop it right there.
It’s for the best that you’re not here at all.
It’s for the best that you won’t call me anymore.
It’s for the best that distance would grow like
flowers in between our souls.

You see, I fell for you,
the moment you said my name.
How could you not have seen that?
How could you not have figured it out?
From that moment, and from this very moment,
right here, where we stand;

And the in-between, from the reckless kisses
you planted like time bombs ticking against my skin;
I’ve mistaken them for flowers and light feathers;
they seemed so innocent as your blank stares,
but never have I been so wrong.

And the drunken poetry I left bare before you?
Like my skin you thought you rightfully owned?
How could you not have fallen for my honest words?

And then somebody told me, but not soon enough;
you kissed another girl, but this time
the kisses weren't time bombs, with the intention
of destructing a heavy heart;
This time, with her, the kisses were gentle;
They were pure. And knowing you,
you don’t always speak the truth.

And then you asked me last night,
"Do you love me?" I said no,
not at all; well, I love you, yes.
But I love everyone.

That makes us both liars, then.

So stop, please, stop it right there,
How many lies do you have
hidden like sharp blades
beneath your tongue?
Because I already ran out of excuses
not to love you in the morning,
And I might not make it through the night.

At least let me make it through the night.