Things are different and sometimes I wish I remained in the shelter labelled as The Indifferent where soap bubbles were as indestructible as bulletproof glass.
But you have a way of making me roll down my windows long enough to pass me nibblets of living and I wish you never reached your hand in to touch mine.
Safe houses aren't constructed to keep people out but deadbolts are in place to keep me in. I'd never advocate a limb to give me comfort;
your legs aren't strong enough to walk in this shambled home and your arms will burn before they can reach me.
I'm in the middle of flames that do not burn as strong as your eyes and I may not be a locksmith but I could very well create a lock that will keep you out.
I have a lead heart that's as fragile as the granite that define your sketches so don't you try to ring that doorbell because it won't open.
I find comfort in loneliness and solace in pain but you'll never change my mind about spring and how blooming flowers always close up from the world.
Morning Glory eyes that open with light and shut in darkness, you haven't been touched by the poison so let's keep you alive for as long as you are meant to live.
There's a difference between pessimism and realizing that the moon is as good as it gets so while you are safe, I will be as safe as dry wood in a bonfire.
I realize that pain is subjective and that iron walls are as needed as titanium souls but it doesn't stop me from being as frivolous as a dandelion.
Don't look at me like I hold treasures because I'm just a body of ashes and tears that is as significant to the eco system as a star that has burned out eons ago.
Remove me from your thoughts and eradicate every memory that acts as a landslide once I'm gone.
Your soul shines brighter with each passing day that I cease to matter.
And of all the words I've every said or written
remember that the most important is the poem about goodbyes and endless apologies.

I love you,
please forget me
and don't forgive me.

You steal my breath the same way you try to steal my soul
And while the nights are empty, your hands are far from cold
I've been waiting for a long time to look into your eyes
But I was wrong about the oceans you had trapped inside

Some girls talk about buzzing bees and raging hormones
But all I think about is the way you became infatuated with my words
I'd be a liar if I said yours didn't create an inviting discomfort
I'd be a liar if I claimed that I do not feel the safety you provide

There's been an unending storm at the bottom of my glass
And you had a knack for turning a hurricane into a drizzling pipe
I'm not the type of girl to fall for sweaters and scented candles
But I'd be a liar if I said you were a feat I could handle

The thought of making you smile fills me with a nagging dread
It's not a terrible thing but too mich has already been said
And I know that time exists in seconds and for once it's too soon
But I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't falling in love with you

My Mother once told me that the pain will burn your lies until all that you leave behind with every step you take
is the smoke of the cigarettes you once held dear but I was pathologically just imagining her saying things to me with her back turned and her eyes closed.
The soles of my shoes are as worn as my eyes when midday reaches its peak
and the last time she spoke to me it was only to tell me that she'd return the favour
by playing the games I never meant to put in place just to spite my severe apathy towards the ways of living in her world.
I'm still only a pebble on a stretch of sand I won't live long enough to see
and parallel lines that were perpendicular to the fragile vein of life were the only things I bothered to pay attention to
but she'll never know that.
I'm still the only ceramic mug on the shelf and eyes pass over me quicker than dust gathers on my shoulders.
I'll never be able to compare the flames in my lungs to the crackle of firewood of lost travellers
for the only blazes I start are the ones that dry my throat and leave my eyes bloodshot.
My Mother talks about love like it's the remedy to every illness but my Father's eyes gaze fleetingly at her soul
and she still claims that their love was the most powerful thing in the world.

I've been told that we should never compare ourselves to things that we don't understand because the mystery behind our souls is an incomparable enigma that can only be unlocked by keys that we might never find since they're scattered in the hearts and minds of those we have never met and may never meet again. And while I've been lounging around some of the most controversial places in my mind, you've been losing yourself in your own without a thought as to how it would inadvertently carve itself into the walls I've tried to keep upright over the years but maybe, the walls I have are made of bamboo and you're a tornado I never saw coming and while I live nowhere near the ocean, I am shipwrecked and sending smoke signals screaming your name through the winds you've created in my otherwise weathered island in the midst of the Forgotten Ocean in between the avenues of corals you could have never imagined to experience the same way you experience each climb you take towards a heaven that isn't anywhere besides on the back of your hand which needs the warmth only forest fires can provide while simultaneously creating a greenhouse of the flowers I have never received as a parting gift from Mother Earth. The parcels that you send my way are lost amidst your thoughts and you've built a wall sturdier than mine with metal parts and concrete but I have always been a pavement artist that's been impartial to empty walls so I've been dedicating the hours I have left to making your home into a museum that could challenge the Louvre. Though I never said that my fingers were gifted to bring beauty and heartbreaking combinations of grays and blues so please accept my apology if I make a mess on the walls you might never be strong enough to see but know that my intentions are as pure as the pearls that are formed under the Dead Sea and that I will be the ghost of Christmas Past you will never have the displeasure to meet.
  
                                                                            (m.e.)

Sometimes I wish I was better at goodbyes. Maybe instead of saying, "See you tomorrow." I could've said, "See you as the seconds become too much of a forever for me to understand time."
Maybe if I was better at goodbyes, I wouldn't have to be so shocked to see you walk pace after pace to put distance in between my body and my heart.
Maybe if I was better at goodbyes, I wouldn't be filling up pages with hope and a loose grip trying to keep you in a place you don't want to be.
Maybe the entire matter of saying goodbye wouldn't be an issue if I followed every hello with a, "May you live long and well without me."
I've been wandering the unlit streets for so long that when a light begins to shine in the eternal night, I latch on to it like a leech latches on to scarlet filled bodies until I've burned out the light.
And I'm so terribly sorry for all the woes I've added to yours and I am forever in your debt; a debt I cannot repay with words or a life.
I'm sorry for the way my shadow casts out your light and the way my hands hold on for longer than you want them to but I've been alone for a long time and I overcompensate my loneliness with what you don't wish to give.
I live my life trying to repay my debts but I am neither oath bound nor promised to you. Nonetheless every drop of life I can give, I will give.
Every ounce of pain I can take, I will take.
And I will not love; for love is a luxury meant to those who deserve it and I don't.
The only goodbye I can muster is the whispers in the wind of the way I could've loved you and every wave of grief the ocean sends as an apology to the shore for leaving so abruptly.
A goodbye was expected and a goodbye will be given
A goodbye you will have to accept and a goodbye I have no choice but to give
For the leaves have long weathered its branches and a parasite is only living through the things it kills and I have killed.
I have killed my strength
I have killed my belief
I have killed my happiness
I have killed you
My limbs are not strong and my arms cannot hold you
My eyes are brimming with pain and I cannot translate unheard promises to you
My ears are covered and I cannot hear your pleas
All I know is the pain of goodbyes and it is all I can ever be
Maybe if I were better at letting myself fall into fierce torrents of water
Maybe if I were better at being a friend, a sister, a student, a daughter, a follower
Maybe if I deserved a sense of happiness and love
Maybe
Maybe then I could be saved
But I am not
And I'm afraid its too late to be saved