Of what does it take for you to look at me,
To see me eye-to-eye, and look at me clearly
For just one moment before you turn away with disgust?
You stand me up half-naked with half-assed expectations,
Telling me to open up, to meet you halfway,
But I’ll always be half-faced.
Your furrowed brows
Frame me as the villain,
As if I were the one who caused you all of this misery.
But don’t you know?
When you wrap yourself tightly with your own two arms,
Your claws dig deep into my shoulders
Until the dried blood of a carcass
Crusts around your fingertips,
Until my skin has been lifted from its comfort zone.
Of what does it take for you to look at me,
Before I crash and fall into the pieces of your broken heart
The moment your fist meets glass?
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC
Of what does it take for you to look at me,
To see me eye-to-eye, and look at me clearly
For just one moment before you turn away with disgust?
You stand me up half-naked with half-assed expectations,
Telling me to open up, to meet you halfway,
But I’ll always be half-faced.
Your furrowed brows
Frame me as the villain,
As if I were the one who caused you all of this misery.
But don’t you know?
When you wrap yourself tightly with your own two arms,
Your claws dig deep into my shoulders
Until the dried blood of a carcass
Crusts around your fingertips,
Until my skin has been lifted from its comfort zone.
Of what does it take for you to look at me,
Before I crash and fall into the pieces of your broken heart
The moment your fist meets glass?
