Is it sad, you think you love me? That you think you need to be someone else for me? It ******* breaks my heart. Or, not breaks— It feels like there's a thin lining of glass around every *****, and every section of my body— And with every thought With every tiny anxious idea It cracks And sends shards shooting through every vein and cell. That’s dramatic, but so is this.
You say you’ve fallen for me And I can’t help but call your bluff Because I can’t stop picturing all the others you’ve ‘fallen’ for And where they lay now, Floating like scraps on the floor Of your conscience.
Love is a void And a concept And an idyllic little photo of a lighthouse on a cliff; It does not apply to you and I. I cannot handle what you’re handing me. I’ve decided to be blunt, Because, isn’t this the time for it? I do love you But I do not have to be in love with you And you do not have to be in love with me.
I have a very hard time With love And everything it entails. But I know it does entail you In a light much different to Traditional ‘love’ Like the fairy tale ‘Prince Charming’ love.
Can I tell you something? I was angry at you, for doing this. I never wanted to be a victim Of this tiresome game People seem so desperate to play. I’m not going to play it. I won’t play it.
You are my friend and someone I hold very close, But I am not in love with you.
And I will not ever be in love with you.
Look at all the ******* poetry we could write About our Empty words And how full They’ve become.
Here are the fullest words I have for you: Don’t let this ruin us.
I think I want to be angry At your patterns Of endless seeking. You have done this before And I have seen it. Please see You play a silent game With yourself and the people you love Trying to find someone To tell you you’re enough
I can’t fill a void I can’t complete you I can’t be someone to fawn over. I can’t do this. Not this.
I have been handed So many things. I roll up my sleeves, pick up my shattered pieces, And handle it. But not this. Don’t ask me to handle this.