I have a bad habit of sticking my head out of windows that don't belong to me
swallowing smoke in the cold as I try to validate this existence
the setting london sun has never been this orange
and I can vividly remember you saying how wherever I go I seem to drink the color around me in a slapdash effort of being the most beautiful thing in the room
and it doesn't work
it never works
But now it's him
and suddenly I'm looming over his warm body
ripping everything off that isn't skin
when god split us apart did he keep the notes he made on how to put us back together?
because I hate this cold separation
and I don't care if people stare at my neck
the painting you left on my fleshy canvas
and I don't care if you don't feel as much as this ash filled heart
because I'll stay up late writing down everything you make me feel
you sleep so close to the edge of your bed I worry you'll fall
would bruises bring you more comfort than your arm around me?
listen to this
my sad ramblings in attempts to try and love you less
I don't appreciate it when you look at me like that
with your mischievous eyes
Why do people say they fall in love?
I'm being dragged
weighed down with every nice word and warm embrace
Everyone has a story they tell when they've had one too many
I listen to them like radio shows on a forgotten channel
and if you hang around someone long enough you see how they change
I don't ever want to be your drunken tale
the girl who loved you too hard you got scared
the girl who felt everything with such intensity you fled
This love is deeper than any cut I've ever had
they could severe both my hands and it wouldn't be as painful
because you know my tendency to overthink
and every goodbye could be final
I try not to let it get to me
when I'm alone and the only light is that filtered yellow from streetlamps
I can't help but notice you don't look at me when you sing
but instead close your eyes as your fingers speak more than your words
more than any message you've ever left me at 2 AM
I can't help but notice how you're all I seem to think about
Corridors lined with paintings
but all I seem to stare at is you
Rooms full of music
I just want to listen to you
My current self curses my past at the memory of her lust filled wants
Such a stupid little girl
unaware of the tidings love would actually bring down upon me
like hellfire
like hail
now even organic connections don't do you justice
because no offense to the moon, sun, or all of the stars
but you're more beautiful than anything I could have ever dreamed
I just wonder if you feel the same