It's most likely just my ****** disposition
Picking flowers just to watch them wilt
Maybe I've just been wilting
Losing petals and color and life
I can't keep ahold of anything
Possibly just tearing out my own roots so no one else could do it for me
Tired of replanting myself and tired of trying to become acquainted to new soil
Adaptation is ******* and I don't want to play with change anymore but it's so ******* unfortunate how you usually have no choice or say in the matter, it's always so forced
Forced to change or sit in the ruines
And sometimes, I do
Sometimes I stay there until I can't breathe in anymore ash
Ether streaming to my lungs making its home there
Sometimes I stay there long after everyone has left and I sit in it as long as I can
Sometimes I leave before it can happen
Sometimes it never does
I tell myself it would have if I'd have stayed
It would have changed
Maybe it's just my ****** disposition
Telling me that no matter what changes I make
None of them will ever constitute as enough that your heart could ever feel the same as mine
Now it's pounding in my temples telling me that I'm wasting my time
Not enough, unloveable
Not enough for anyone, but you aren't just anyone
You're so much more and I have so much less than most
And then comes the rejection of the thought, the tantrum, the dissociation, the I don't need love, the I'd rather be alone my entire life than deal with the pain of loving someone like there was a knife pressed against me and having them shove it in
I don't need love
But no matter how long that last
I always want yours