My life is not your little garden of flowers to pick and
Pluck parts of me from.
Love Me, Love Me Not, Love Me, Love Me Not, Love Me, Love Me Not,
Love Me.
I can't Smile happily as I watch you approach with your greedy hands
Empty once more.
How am I supposed to Smile while you Peel away my layers of
Good Intentions.
It gets old Waiting on a Maybe
And thats the only word that
Tastes Good
To You
You Breathe Fires of "Perhaps"
You ***** Potentials and Possibilities
You Craft Nooses of Love and Affection
Why is it that you begin writing love letters
And
Create Spears Crafted with
Loving Hands?
Why is it that your words are
Purple
With Poison?
They are thrown out and
Spatter
Like Blood.
Leaving your own crime scene of
Confused Tears
That Beg for More
Behind You.
Why?!
Just Tell Me What
Broke
Inside of you that you feel like
Your Sticky Games
Hold You Together
Why is your stomach always
Hungry
when I offer you the Food off of my Plate
What is Fading the Color from your Eye?
That Grey is not
Indigenous
to the Eyes that I
Memorized and Learned.
How has your picture faded?
Why can't I just
Paint them back The Way They
Were
?
Maybe, Only Because
God
Didn't
Give
Me
The
Right
Colors
Why Then, Do I Spend
Day and Night
Mixing and Remixing
To Find the Perfect Shade of your
Joy
Maybe you just aren't
My Masterpiece
To Create
&
You Will Never Be
Finished
While the Brush is Still In
My Hand
Maybe All Along it has been
My Hand
that Held the
Knife that Scarred Me...
Maybe Not You After All
Oh Maybe Maybe Maybe
How I Hate its Non-Commital Nature.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
My life is not your little garden of flowers to pick and
Pluck parts of me from.
Love Me, Love Me Not, Love Me, Love Me Not, Love Me, Love Me Not,
Love Me.
I can't Smile happily as I watch you approach with your greedy hands
Empty once more.
How am I supposed to Smile while you Peel away my layers of
Good Intentions.
It gets old Waiting on a Maybe
And thats the only word that
Tastes Good
To You
You Breathe Fires of "Perhaps"
You ***** Potentials and Possibilities
You Craft Nooses of Love and Affection
Why is it that you begin writing love letters
And
Create Spears Crafted with
Loving Hands?
Why is it that your words are
Purple
With Poison?
They are thrown out and
Spatter
Like Blood.
Leaving your own crime scene of
Confused Tears
That Beg for More
Behind You.
Why?!
Just Tell Me What
Broke
Inside of you that you feel like
Your Sticky Games
Hold You Together
Why is your stomach always
Hungry
when I offer you the Food off of my Plate
What is Fading the Color from your Eye?
That Grey is not
Indigenous
to the Eyes that I
Memorized and Learned.
How has your picture faded?
Why can't I just
Paint them back The Way They
Were
?
Maybe, Only Because
God
Didn't
Give
Me
The
Right
Colors
Why Then, Do I Spend
Day and Night
Mixing and Remixing
To Find the Perfect Shade of your
Joy
Maybe you just aren't
My Masterpiece
To Create
&
You Will Never Be
Finished
While the Brush is Still In
My Hand
Maybe All Along it has been
My Hand
that Held the
Knife that Scarred Me...
Maybe Not You After All
Oh Maybe Maybe Maybe
How I Hate its Non-Commital Nature.
It ***** Knowing it's over.
