I know that the choice,

littered like puzzle pieces before you,

is a hard one.


I know you don’t mean to break me.


I know you want to conceal my cracks,

pointed edges,

gnarled and twisted,

before I get to see that they are still there.


I know you want me to wake up beside you, hopeful and

cured.

I know you want me to stop gathering my defences,

every time you throw a question over my fence.


I know you want me to be the one.

I also know that you are beginning to question if I am the one.


I know I follow an endless road. It’s always muddy and cold

and runs parallel to yours.


I know I seem settled but that’s the excuse and lie

I want for you to understand. That’s the image I

build for you.


I know I won’t be what you go to bed dreaming of.

I can’t live in fantasy with you, even though I can fall into

daydreams and blissful reveries of someone I could have been.


I know I ensnared you,

lured you into my bitter web.

I stalk around our trap like a purposeful spider,

self assured and cunning,

my body waiting for a moment to strike.

I know I’ll hurt you deeply; so much it’s

enough to cut you lose

from the net before I do something unforgivable.


I know we love the pull of each other. The safety we revel in, when

we pose as dangerous threats to each other.

The fiery lust and desire sparked when people look away.


I know I fell in love with you, but I also know that doesn’t mean

all that much to you.

I know it doesn’t mean you will always love me.

I know we hold each other until the first person lets go,

stops clinging to open arms;

warm bodies turn cold.

And I know one of us always leaves.


I know I am myself, and I wouldn’t change it for you.

Not for all your kisses or caresses or late-night passions.

Not for the eyes I bathe in or for all the sweet promises you break.


I know that I will always be me.

And I know I’ll continue to be me, strive to be me,

hold on to what I am, burn

as fierce as I do,

long after you take what’s dedicated yours

and run.