Don't tell me how you feel.
I have heard this all before. I know what you say isn't real. I can't believe what you say anymore. I know you'd like to believe, that you aren't as transparent as you are. But I know how you love to deceive. And I really don't need another scar. You need to just move on. Your eggshells are everywhere. They're to sharp for me to walk upon. I don't need to because I no longer care.
I found your purple keychain in the back seat of my car.
I remember there was a time when I felt like I couldn’t drive another mile with it dangling from my dashboard. Pulled over on the side of the road - **** this and what it stands for. Your idea of romance was buying everything you found in my favorite color. Coming home with fists full of lavender to make up for a night of fists flying through the air. Purple was a sign of forgiveness - a token of love where I didn’t ask for it. I have a box full of love letters written in lilac ink that don’t feel like they’re addressed to me and your purple keychain with my initials engraved on the back. I wonder how you could possibly say that you loved me you didn’t know me at all
I am childish
And foolish To think that if I Kept bringing her darkness She wouldn't shy away And turn towards anything Anything that was brighter I was foolish To believe That I could ever be The water she needed To grow and live When I Was the acid Burning through her roots
— The End —