It's been two years and I still don't feel comfortable sleeping in other beds.
Our perfect polarization made
me an ice cube,
and now I'm frozen in place.
I dont regret anything...
I think we're better apart,
but am not sure
I can be better again,
or as good as we were...
Anyways.
Everything is downhill.
I can't climb up.
My skin is tight and red,
and my back hurts.
My outlook is pragmatic.
I rarely run and jump and skip.
Even though I listen to love songs
on repeat, it just doesn't happen.
How was I able to love you like lyrics?
I don't remember the expressions or
the kisses.
It hurts to look back
at the obscure, the abstract.
Everything is cloudy;
I can't see past you anymore.
I'd go back one time,
if I could but,
I'd still be going forward.
I don't really think about you often, but I
can't think about anyone else.
I'm a silent movie with no captions.
My duplicious gaze full of passion,
and yearning -
It's fake.
It's all a game, half the time
I forget I'm playing.
All I do is **** people
over, then leave.
When they tell me they love me,
I smile and nod affirmatively,
while thinking
of how it will end.
Sounds sociopathic.
I don't know what to do about it.
My heart is dead.
I didn't give it away - it just died.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
It's been two years and I still don't feel comfortable sleeping in other beds.
Our perfect polarization made
me an ice cube,
and now I'm frozen in place.
I dont regret anything...
I think we're better apart,
but am not sure
I can be better again,
or as good as we were...
Anyways.
Everything is downhill.
I can't climb up.
My skin is tight and red,
and my back hurts.
My outlook is pragmatic.
I rarely run and jump and skip.
Even though I listen to love songs
on repeat, it just doesn't happen.
How was I able to love you like lyrics?
I don't remember the expressions or
the kisses.
It hurts to look back
at the obscure, the abstract.
Everything is cloudy;
I can't see past you anymore.
I'd go back one time,
if I could but,
I'd still be going forward.
I don't really think about you often, but I
can't think about anyone else.
I'm a silent movie with no captions.
My duplicious gaze full of passion,
and yearning -
It's fake.
It's all a game, half the time
I forget I'm playing.
All I do is **** people
over, then leave.
When they tell me they love me,
I smile and nod affirmatively,
while thinking
of how it will end.
Sounds sociopathic.
I don't know what to do about it.
My heart is dead.
I didn't give it away - it just died.
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