You make me smile
when nothing else can.
Yet I start to cry
at the thought
of seeing you.
Perhaps because
you remind me
of what I’ll never have.
What I want
so desperately
but can’t seem to grasp.
It’s held
just out of reach
when you make me laugh,
or hug me close.
What,
you ask,
could I want
so badly?
You.

What?
What is this?
What is this feeling?
It tingles,
it feels warm;
so comfortable.
I could snuggle in it forever.

Now it used to feel warm.
Now it used to be comfortable.
It feels cold.
Colder than absolute zero.
It hurts.
Hurts more than a thousand gashes I put on my arm
What mysterious pain;
yet forlorn.

I burnt myself making dinner again.

This time it was my arm, not my hand.

I want to be better.
I have to be better.

I know I have to be patient,
But it hurts me when I see that sliver
Of... whatever it is, in your eyes.

Maybe it's disappointment.
Maybe it's fear.

I know I have to get worse before I get better,

But I don't want to lose you.

I'm not the girl you'd write songs about
Or even a poem
I'm not the one you'd write home about
Or even mention
I'm not the girl you'd stay up thinking about
Or on the phone with till 2am
You're not going to cry over me
Or read about me in a book
I'm not going to break your heart
Cause you'll never fall
Not for me at least
Cause I'm not the girl