I wanted to write about walking away
the two of us, fading away from each others view
I'd decorate it in poetry as if it were anything more than another premature ending
but all I'm left with is shrines in the form of mixtapes
and days spent wondering what it would feel like if I was still in the backseat of your car
instead of sitting upright in the passenger side of his
he says he likes the song I'm playing
but I think he'd hate it if he knew it's just another epitaph for the nights I spent with you

I am forgiving myself
and aware enough to know there are pieces of me still in need of healing
and for a while I would've hesitated to let you in for the fear that I'm not good enough yet
isn't that life, though?
aren't we all just trying to find ways around our brokenness?
to wake up with love for all the fragments we haven't quite learned how to fit together?
I may not be a masterpiece yet but that doesn't make me any less of a work of art
this is your open invitation to all of the messes of me

maybe it's for the sake of ourselves that we always remember the ending and not the beginning
memories come in flashes
and sometimes it's the nights we spent hidden from the rest of the world whispering words I never thought to write down
but mostly it's the morning when it hurt so much to look at you I had to close my eyes
and even then tears still made their way through my shut eyelids
now it's been months and I've forgotten my favorite features on your face
and I wish I could remember the night I called my best friend after leaving you because I had so many feelings I didn't know what to do with them
without remembering coming home to her crying because in the end we were too good to last

don't mistake love for lust
he may pry your legs open and kiss inbetween them in a way that makes you feel like you're touching heaven
but if he doesn't talk to your little brother like he's his own
or hug your mom so tight it's as if he's saying "thank you for her"
if he only calls you after midnight
when the liquor running through his bloodstream makes his body ache
he is only looking for someone to meet him at the bottom of a bottle and not someone to trace circles on his hands underneath his parents dining room table
he will keep his thoughts in like smoke he can't exhale
and you will drive yourself mad trying to pry them out of the same lips you thought would heal you
because the truth is no man can love you who doesn't love himself

I sink in sadness when I think of the parking lots we used to make a fortress
you still exist in every 2 am
we made the most of the night and we made the most of the daylight
passion never burned so bright in the afternoon
you kissed the indentations in my shoulders and I don't think anyone will ever understand my silence as well as you
lay beside me and teach me the art of saying goodbye
the only thing we never perfected

the devil on my shoulder whispers the reasons I should call you
it's the reason I'm thinking of you while he's driving me home
why I feel you when his hand is clenched tight in mine
it's foolish but I'd spend the rest of my life falling apart if it meant falling apart with you
your name blends with his and I have to bite my tongue
look what a mess we made

I don't mean to use you as a safety net
because the truth is you deserve someone who feels the bed sheets beside them when you're not around as more than just another empty space
but I've spent so much time falling into the arms of danger
I only knew how to love and let it destroy me
and never how to disassociate the two
so I let the idea of love die without a euology
and I sought comfort instead