I'm subtle like an atomic bomb
keep my words laid back and calm
my heart is a glass grenade
feel it crack when my love fades
but still, I stayed
but still, I stayed in this charade
and built around a barricade

you know I'd rather talk this out
spent a decade to you devout
by your side through the drought
so quiet we would never shout
but still, I doubt
but still, I doubt the chosen route
and if I'd prefer to go without

(your tongue a jacketed hollow point
we've never gone to bed angry...
but regret, guilt, and empty sadness
is a fragile yet different parallel)

(I suspect my veins course with
plutonium and uranium...
I leak radioactive decay,
my half-life disintegrating)

there's a stillness when I explode
for a moment, time is slowed
you're in disbelief that I'd reload
the same feelings, the same road
but still, I bowed
but still, I bowed to your code
and stayed despite what you showed

my atoms begin anew to divide
no longer stable, can I abide
I feel a part of me has died
when to leave, I must decide
but still, I cried
but still, I cried by your side
until the day I walked out in stride

(your love is a weapon
I've been held at gunpoint for so long...
I never wanted to hurt you
but I can't keep hurting myself, either)

you don't understand
how much it took for me too finally ask you out
and how happy it made me feel
when you said yes
i was so happy
finally, happy
you told me it was mutual
you felt the same
now it's beginning to feel like a twisted game
you go away on summer camp
you say you're having doubts
i thought you'd at least give us a chance
but it was over before the month was out
why allow me to believe you liked me
when you only saw us as friends?
why allow me to smile and be happy
when you were just waiting for it to end?
what do you expect me to say now
when i'm sat here crying?
knowing you had no intention
of ever really trying
there's nothing more i can say
now than it hurts
and that she won't be the same
because it was me who loved you first

I am completely out of good ideas.
This isn't exactly what I'd call good company.
Being alone with you.
A worthwhile bad memory.
To know the future doesn't seem all that bad.
Under certain conditions.
Preconceived notions of cause and effect.
It's unpredictable.
Yet predictable to see exactly where we're going.
Being in love with you seems like a bad idea.
I learned that the hard way.
The touch of a hand on the small of your back.
Afterwards we could both agree.
This was a really bad idea.
Picking up where the other left off

We went opposite directions.
My heart didn’t come with me.

When I’m with you, my being is filled with a comfort unlike anything else.
Although, these words may never leave my heart, for I fear you may think me too attached.

When I walk beside you, I wish to entangle my fingers in yours and interlock my dreary self with your optimistic light.
And although my lips may never shape this feeling to you, truth be truth, inside myself.

When I first enter that room of anxious working early in the morn, before the sun has fully risen, I wish only to fold myself into your warmth and release that which downs me.
But I do hope this longing never reaches you, so that you may never feel burdened by my love.

When we sit close, amongst the chaos, I dearly swear it that I desire to spill the darkness and gold of my ever straining, creating mind to you so that you may understand my inner worldly thoughts.
Yet I shall forever hold my tongue, to not elude you to some falscity that I may be of twisted psyche or wisdom.

When I think of us parting ways, like a goose must do to the lake to escape the ever threatening cold of winter, my heart clenches in the tensity of my overwhelming sorrow of envisioning your departure from me.
And still, never could I share with you my woes, for I hide amidst the shadow of the fear of abandonment and lonesome

And so, I shall stay silent for your love.
And so, these dwellings I do sorrily keep to myself.

i am sick of writing about you all the time.
my thoughts of you and the words that i write are intertwined,
and trying to unravel your ghost from my memories feels nearly impossible.

you are tattooed on my heart,
and with each thump a new line is generated-

thump
the heartbreak you have left me in feels like a maze i cannot find my way out of

thump
do you still find me as beautiful as you once did?

thump
i know that in my eyes you have never lost your charm

but i am sick of writing about you all the time.
because i am sick of feeling like this.
feeling like the entirety of my existence is so fragile,
depending on you to make me feel as if it is actually worth something,
depending on you to continue to reciprocate the feelings i have shared with you
even though deep inside i know that you are tired too.
tired of the see-saw like motions of our relationship...
even though, in our ups we felt like the king & queen of the world,
in our downs you no longer saw the point;
no longer see the point in trying to mend something you claim to be eternally broken.

am i sick for still trying?
why do i still allow myself to break my own heart over you?
is it because i still see potential where you see debris?

our love went up in flames,
and i think that we both tried to save as much of ourselves as we could from the fire...
save so much of ourselves
that we forgot about each other.