nihilism is your Mecca;
apathy your temple
i abandoned religion to follow you.
i thought you were the north star
but as it turns out,
you were nothing but an airplane
bound to crash
with one passenger inside.
but death doesn't matter, does it?
nothing does, in the end.
i was the eye of your hurricane,
the ostensible object of your affection,
terrified to
venture beyond the tiny circumference
of peace.
you'd line your shoes with razors
just to prove you felt no pain.
you were untouchable, you told me;
you concerned yourself for nothing,
i worried for everything.
as it turns out,
your glass ceiling was fragile
and sent you tumbling to rock bottom
when it finally shattered.
you loved the thrill of the free fall,
but i was afraid of heights.
i wouldn't be there for your downfall
though you seemed to know you'd survive.
i was left with no faith
little hope
and more questions than i knew how to ask.
it's been years now,
and still i wonder
were you lying all along,
or just deluded?