when I wrote I rearranged the stars in heaven for you

I made them shine in your eyes and dance in the skies in honour of you

I pulled the colours of the sunset out of the sky and wrapped you in them like a hug

I fought demons for you and I cast them out into the darkness where they came

i forgave you for all the stupidity  and  unintentional cruelty,

I even let you take my world and twist it into your vision of our future

and still, still, you can not seem to remember what it is you did wrong

you say your sorry but I can never believe you.

the violation of trust has become the expectational norm.

its so hard to get close to you when you keep snipping at my heart strings

please dont untangle me, Ive grown to love this mess

Its my home. its not much, not even comfortable in most ways,

but its all I have and I insist to myself its enough to keep drawing more from myself to give to you,

and still, still I wait for that recognition.

that instance of realisation

the lightning bolt

the one that makes it all so worth it.

the one where stars fall at your feet,

like when the sun crawls out of the sky just to see you wake

where the words wrap themselves like flowers around you

and the only darkness is the one scattered with lights

arranged in random love notes, a love immortal.

and still, still where only bravehearts fear not to try.