I laid in your bed, touching your body with the same hands that cursed it hours before
They cursed all men, pointing at the deceit and insecurities I have about myself

They pointed at me, then back at you, then back at me.
A cycle of love and hate, processing and empathy.

The curves of your body made me numb
The vibrations of your pump every hour
The vibrations of your pumping heart every second I could feel it in my hands every time I lingered just a bit too long
My fingers whispering secrets to your skin

As you talked on the phone, worlds away, in your language, I paused
I admired you. Strong not only by the arms I was holding, but by the head I was kissing
Your love for me seemed so great in those 11 hours.

Maybe 10. I'll round up in this case.

2pm and I finally make it back
You text me,

'did you make it back ok?'

It made me smile.
I walked three flights of steps back to my home.

'No, I died'

But part of me had
Friendship had turned to love
Love had turned into resentment
Resentment turned into heartache
They leave they leave they leave. They always leave.
And I sit here, alone
Wondering what I could have done to make you stay.

Maybe I admire the way you treat me as if I'm the only ******* your mind for those 10 hours.
11, I mean.
Maybe I think that the way you soften when I'm near is because of my heart
Maybe it's because I'm young and impulsive
A constant battle between love and hate

Pointing my finger to blame someone, something
Pointing out my flaws
Pointing out the ones who left
Staring in a mirror, I point

Escape is inescapable, pointing is fun
Maybe what I'm looking for is someone to point at me and say 'you're the one'

At some point I’ll
Have to come to terms with this reality

At some point I’ll
Need to make peace with your absence

At some point I’ll
Turn around and find myself breathing-

That’s when I can say I made it;
When I can breathe and walk and feel
Without you

I’m there now
              I think
Just don’t want to admit it,
For fear that acceptance
Of your absence
Is release
Of potential
And the coming
Of the inevitable
The end

• it was always you-- until relatively recently
• you're not the epitome of romance so you say, but why did you hold me like you want to romance me
• i was sorry if it seemed like i moved on the first few months -- i was never good at being open
• i could've let you help me
• did you like being undefined or did you want something more concrete because i felt as though i was the one with a happy broken heart and you found something perfect for you
•i miss you, always missed you and will miss you if you leave again

anxiety is a terrorist
who holds me at gun point
and hijacks the plane that
i should be flying.
i don't know where we're headed
or what i'm going to do.

i am not safe on my own.

Action speaks louder than words,
so does confidence,
which speaks for itself as the right thing done at the right moment in time,
enhances the scope of how things will shape in future,
then also at the same point in time it changes the nature of everything in present, which has got do something with regards to future.

Definitely taking a proper line of action speaks for itself rather than stating it merely on a piece of paper or in the form of words.

I'll hold on
until it doesn't make sense
and when you tell me there's no point,
I'll give you a reason to love
and to hold on.