he made my lungs inflate and flutter like butterfly wings,
and my mind ignite like a wild fire,
and my veins pulse like electric currents,
and in the point-two seconds it took for me to realize i couldn't kiss someone who thought i was fragile,
i was already planning out the different ways i would say,

this has to end

because when the first person to ever love me left,
i realized that
i inflate my own lungs,
and i don't need anyone
to be my matches because i have imaginations full of my own,
and i've discovered that caffeine feels much better in my veins and never asks for anything in return.
and maybe i'm overthinking it, but maybe i don't care.
and i don't know lots about myself yet,
i know,
but i know i am not suppose to be delicate,
not ever.