I stopped writing about you
That's when I knew I wanted it to be over.

My heart is unruly
And the key you keep will break its locks
No matter how they mould and change
But it is locked all the same.
The doors are closed
To impish jealousy and green eyes of mischief
To the stabbing knives of rejection
That fly in like butterflies, waiting for the sink of realisation.
To the pain of unknowing
A perpetual roller coaster without a harness
To the sweet agony of your peaks and lows.

Loving you is too hard.

I try to think of you as poison
To feed on feelings of heartache and injustice
But I know, in truth 
You are a tempest
Fraught with indecision and rage
You run deeper than an ocean
With limitless currents
That chop and change beyond your control 
Too frantic and complex for me to ever comprehend.

I can't put you in a box
Lock you away 
I can't make you the enemy 
I can't regret everything we've had
But I can't go on like this.

I need this to be over.