They say I'm self-centered.
I say, I'm made in the image of God,
this is what He intended.

Recently, the sun hasn't risen the way it used to.
Instead I've found birds singing only to the moon like wolves crying out in the night.
I don't know what we did to turn ourselves into Nightwalkers.
But I know I can run my fingers through your hair and it'll touch me like dragon glass.

To say I haven't slept in years, is dramatic.
But so is writing poems at 2am about someone you'll never be quite strong enough to forget.

I'm rambling, because that's what I do. That's how my thoughts come through... have I told you about the abandoned waterfall inside me?
How since I last saw you all it's rivers ran dry?
They've been empty for years, but at least with you there was one or two storms that'd pass by.

I know this feeling will soon fade away. And still I will regret nothing except for all the things I put on you.
All the things I needed you to be.
I'm sorry I tried to acquaint you with my demons.
I forgot you had your own, waging war in your battlefield shaped mind.
I guess I was hoping you could tame mine.
I guess I was hoping I could tame yours.

I guess I put a lot of hope into just another bottomless chasm.