I am a debris
Of what you built inside that
I prayed for eons

It's about being broken enough
to where scars are reminders
of the days you could remember
exactly what hurt
**you.

I'm sorry
All I know
How to do
Is to ruin things,
Like people,
And places,
And memories.

i. Do not think she cares about you; her heart is a wasteland and love is the rain the land knows it will not get anymore.
ii. Do not think she feels like you do; she will tear you apart in her effort to love.
iii. Do not think her being happy is good; she destroys everything she touches, ruin is more natural to her than joy.
iv. Do not care about her; no matter what emotion she is expressing all she feels is scorn for you.
v. Do not get close to her; she is a flame and whatever good she once possessed has long since burnt to ashes under its heat.

in the blanket of night
i know of ruin
and on quiet early mornings
my grave-heart
is still