i don’t know why a guy like you;
funny
kind
smart
would love a girl like me.

one who is bad at thinking,
one who’s very bad at slowing down,

why would you love the riptide
drawing you out to sea?
would you feel the Stockholm Syndrome
in your bones?

sometimes i say it’s because
of my devastatingly adequate looks
or my horrifically average mind,

you say you wish i could see me
through your eyes
and, on god, that scares me.
i never want to see the girl
you’ll leave behind

i never want to be the girl
you want to run from

but every time you run—
and it’s much too often,
i see you running to me.

i want nothing more than for you to trip
and never reach me
never love me
never need me

when will you see that i’m a trap
a wreck who can’t stop going too fast
and can’t seem to move my feet
to run alongside you