you tell me you’re afraid
but what exactly are you afraid of?
are you really so put off by change,
or do you just hate the idea of no longer
having a damsel in distress to rescue?
when you first met me i was as low as i’ve ever been.
popping pills and drinking myself away.
dragging blades across my skin and dreaming of
painting portraits with my blood (as if i could be an artist).
acting pathetic, psychotic, self destructive.
but you fell for me anyway (for god knows what reason).
maybe because you were hurting too
and thought it’d be nice to
focus on somebody else for a while.

so tell me, how’s that been working out for you?