You think I'm sweet, you think you're safe,
I am but a hurricane, ripping through each pore of your body, discovering things you wanted to keep locked away
I will push at your limits, until your resistance begins to fray and you are left a quivering mess of emotions
Your comfort zone will look like heaven, as each step you take into this darkness becomes as scary as your bedroom cupboard when you were a child
And now everytime someone asks you "are you okay?" the question will seem mild in comparison to my mental interrogations to find each point where an experience shaped you
Your happiness is great, but your crystal tears lure me and every miserable memory makes my heart beat in sympathy with your sobs
So I am not sweet and now you regret liking someone who is in love with poetry