You stopped handing me your gaze, and yet your ship still sends ripples in.
I hear your love is with someone new, and I know I'm not meant for you.
I'm nothing more than a mere candle you once lit before putting in the cupboards.
We were in something like infinity and I know I didn't fight, and it's unfair
of me to put the blame on you, but why didn't you fight for me?
I wanted to know I was worth your love. I wanted to know
that everyone was wrong.
And dear, you cannot play with something as dangerous and fragile as a heart.
Your ship headed straight towards it and I never knew how in love you could look
until you came at me with those cannons. How was I supposed to know we'd end up
like this? You know I can't undo the feel of those rough hands,
I can't forget the way your lips curved in at the sound of my name.
You are destruction and I told you that as you promised
it would all be alright. I told you someone would come out broken
and I guess you know how to lie through those perfect teeth.
I needed you so close then, but not as much as I do now.
After all, I crossed that storm warning you swore was church bells.
So come back you idiot, and let me on board to your ship.
I promise I will let you and your lover tear me apart;
I just want to be near you. I just want to hear you need me one more time.

I tried every How to Get Over Him area of expertise that claimed
God Ridden results, but they lied. They lied. They Lied. I cannot get the melody
of his speech out of my ears with Q-tips or a doctor's kit. His ghost whispers songs
we used to listen to and I swear, this ghost tries to scare me too. I have swallowed two sleeping pills tonight and I wouldn't doubt myself if I ended up in a state of
unconsciousness. He is a ghost following my every move, loving me in a way I crave the visible him to love me. I wouldn't mind this one, if only his hands were warmer when they touched me and I could smell December off of his jacket too. I am an addict that has run out of magic. I am a mermaid in the desert. Maybe I was meant to last with just these material things to replace him.

The thundering in my heart is a response to your pouty clouds, and I still
wonder why no one bothered to discover the lands beneath it to this day. Under
those dark skies the town is alive and blue, blue, blue is all I see.
You are blue, yet red, yet love, yet pain. I sing to the music from your
soul and I dance to the light in your eyes. You're a melancholy soul glittered
with invincible warriors and I am just a flower in your garden. People step
on me and I still pray you will notice more than the bent petals or the crack in
my stem. I am so much more with this pounding in my heart and
the purple rain feeding my lips. I have always felt cheated until my eyes
landed on you, and I knew - I knew you were what I was willing to take this for.
But you don't like petaled people or thundering hearts and I know that.
You like dark rooms and moon kissed nights, and I feed off of the sun's kisses.
You like black holes and the idea of an abyss, and I like skin on skin. I like being
the loser in this, with rain splattered homework and puddle filled shoes. But you like
umbrellas and indoor rooms. We can try to use umbrellas and dance in the rain,
we can keep the homework in the house while we go insane.
But roses are red, and violets are blue.
To you, roses are black, and violets are black.
I will show you the colors to these flowers, because it will lead you to the
color of my soul too.