eating up inches of my mind,
the things we say at midnight -
toxic ideas about what love looks like.
please don’t remember me for this,
clinging to ideas of what could be,
romanticizing the way you look idly.
i’ve never been the easy choice
guiding my madness to digest slowly,
and i know i’m off putting in a beautiful way.
the same way tornados look cool as hell
from the comforts of your cement block.
there wouldn’t be a siren loud enough,
to make you see me more.