for years i sat through it.
the constant fighting.
i let you tell me how wrong i was.
i let you make me feel like nothing.
i let you use me and abuse me in so many ways.
i liked the attention. i stayed because i liked to feel you with me.
but now i realize who i am.
i realize who you are.
i realize i am a trophy and you are a person who wins too many trophies and throws them up on a shelf.
i will not be on your shelf any longer.

I came to you when I was broken. I was in pieces and needed to be put back together. I was desperate to be fixed and I didn't care who fixed me. You gathered up my pieces and held them in your hands. I was sure you were going to fix me, but you held the pieces in your hands. For years you held these pieces in your hands and crumbled them into smaller pieces. I was still convinced that you would take my pieces and glue me back together until the day that you dropped them. You dropped all of the pieces and didn't bother to look back or pick them up. You stepped on them and walked away. You stepped on me and left me.

I got lost today.
I got lost in a place that I
should never get lost in,
but somehow I just keep taking the wrong turns.
I got lost today,
got lost in my own head,
not sure where to look
and not sure what to say when
I could ask for help.
I keep getting lost,
and when I come back home
and tell my friends and family,
"I'm sorry, I got lost again,"
they throw fits and ask me why I don't
try to find a way to fix it.
Do you think I don't?
But maps are annoying, and a GPS is just so expensive,
and I could just buy a compass
but I'll lose it by next week anyway!
So I guess I'll just keep getting lost,
keep taking those wrong turns
until I can finally know
where I'm supposed to go.
I just hope that somebody will know
where to look for me
if someday I don't find my way home.

i am not going to beautify our love story
with words that sound like melodies
and events that only happen in movies,
because it wasn't beautiful,
nor was it a love story.
it was a tragedy filled with
the chaos of having the
right person, but the wrong time.

one thousand ninety five days
and i was a second too late.
the end was written
and the book was closed.
us became you and i,
i love you turned into
i loved you,
i looked at you, but
you were already looking at her.
you were supposed to be
the one who stayed,
but eventually became
the one who left.

and now, you're just another story
that i keep in my secret drawer
labeled all the boys i've cried over.

Don't worry, love,
I know those gates of stone
stand firmly
to guard the most precious parts
of your soul.

I am not here like the others;
not as a warrior
planning a siege
or a strategist
plotting to knock them down.

I respect your walls too much.

You have fought in more wars
than most;
you have been betrayed by more loves
than most could survive -
your walls are the result
of your scars.

So here I stand before you,
my weapons laid down,
my intentions spread out before the Sun,
with nothing in my hands
but open palms,
asking you
to let me in.

Show me, love,
all those terrible,
beautiful
wild flowers
growing in your garden -
I want to do nothing
but paint them to remember,
and carry their fallen petals
safely in my heart.

Open up to me, please,
my love -
I am already yours.