loving someone
is only giving them a door
giving them a door
a lock
a key
and a wrecking ball
they can choose to
destroy you
save you
protect you
they can do whatever they please
and in the end they leave
whether by
betrayal
forsaking
or death
they leave
and take a piece with them.

If I could make the sound of cortisol
pumping through my veins,
it would sound like quarantine

Empty, but full of fear
Tired, but unable to stop moving
Alone, but surrounded by whispers

And here I am, stressed
about homework

tick..,
tock..,
the ticking of the clock,
the hands of good-bye,
where i dont know which part is good when you say 'bye'.
the talk of 'you will be fine',
which i know that i wont.
the smile of 'i will see you soon"
which we don't know 'when is soon?'.
.
the bus stop,
the rain drops.
one coat, two slots.
is the clock still ticking?
'cause you're about to leaving,
while i'm here,
hanging..
.
tick..,
tock..,
the clock keeps ticking,
but the memory of you keeps sticking.

all the memories are hanging on the wall.
the best one,
the worst one,
all collected like there's no difference.
we all made mistakes,
we always did.
we're sorry anyway.
it's time to let go,
to move forward,
to forgive and forget.