i wrote always as a bystander
lives were words yet to be put down
a ****** of life and of the pain of others

the world was best experienced as tourist
never really there, just a stranger in a photo

'you'll barely remember me' i said
the sound of glass shattering beneath my heel

and i would wonder
'why are you so fragile?'

it was pain seen by a lens,
if i caused it, you'd understand
later rather than sooner
i need those tears to fuel my pit

how can i hurt if i'm not really there?
ghost of an idea you created
a fiction of smiles and words tailored

it was sweet when i was told
'you're softer than you look'
because how would you know?
i lie and i hide, i always warn but it's a
self fulfilling prophecy

i'd say i didn't mean
but i didn't care enough to think
so casually cruel, it was never me on the line.

i write this in confession of my crimes
because i've seen the result of what someone
more similar to me than i would like
did to you, my darling dearest

i'll mend you not to atone my sins
but to cleanse yours

it's care and concern that drip from these lips
and i make your pain ours, i make your frown
mine.

this is my love letter to you