at 16 years old i fell in love with a boy
with the most beautiful brown eyes i'd ever seen
god if he looked at you the way he does at me
i promise you'd fall too, but
i only paint in blue now
it's not his fault but
i'm kind of really worn down now
it's not his responsibility but
he's breaking all his vows now
says he's always there but
finds an out somehow now
i wish someone would just teach me how
now
to feel okay getting out of bed in the morning, i mean
i know it's the middle of january
and the skies are always grey
but the coldness is much deeper
and the frost comes by and freezes anything liquid
so i guess it makes sense that frozen tears are tripping
down my face
dripping over lace
lies and cries and "yes, i'm fine"s
and it's not just the snow
it's always the rain
disdained complaints of a battle with pain, i mean
every time i open my eyes a little piece of me dies
even with his lips
speaking poetry to the skies
i am still not sleeping at night
my lunch goes uneaten
even the way he touches me
never translates to my dreaming
the nights are always cold now
i've got no one to hold now
'cause the only other person that's ever slept in my bed
is off with the boy who only loved me in my head
i SWEAR i'm happy for them
oh, can't you tell?
i swear i'd smile for you
if i wasn't living in Hell
she was caught in those oceans
the same way as i did
but this time it's all them
it's not one-sided
and that was the first
start to the worse
syllables falling apart when we
used to be well-versed
i'm burst, feel cursed
no way to reverse
i'm sorry this is all over the place
it's a little unrehearsed
but he's running
and she's with him,
he finally found someone that can keep up
i never joined track freshman year so
i can't keep up
but i miss her
more than i kiss him
and yeah, that's a lot--
i guess that's the difference
'cause yes, i found my prince
but we're both struggling to be strong
finally buckling under the things
we've been hiding for so long
but the darkness is the one thing
not changing with the seasons
conspiracy against my own heart
is still technically treason
call me an anti-hero-- i was that night
body on the floor seizing,
doing all the wrong things
for all the right reasons
i'm both objective, subjective, painfully adept at
burning bridges and then regretting the decision
envisioned a better revision
not this painfully clear collision
incision, indecision
no good at provision

my words have become jumbled,
the truth blurs to lies
but he really does have
the most beautiful brown eyes.
-a.c.b