I make things harder than it needs to be.
Its like I enjoy the melancholic feeling every time I think of you
but I don't,
truth is,
I did this to myself,
I was the one who lit up the matches and watched them burn to the end;
flame touching my fingers,
the ever so burning sensation I get when I'm reminded that my own self sabotage let you go.
Its not enough though,
to go back to you.
Trust me when I say that the thing in life I wish I had the most right now would be you,
your hand in mine
but the feeling I get when you hand actually touches mine, the slightest bit, isn't what I expected.
I made it like this
I ruined such a perfectly good thing, and there's no way I'm getting it back.

I walked to the gig but it wasn't in me
Saw a couple heads as I was leaving.
I walked over, greeted them, lost myself
in the lull of conversation. As I looked
in their eyes, at their demeanor, I saw what
I'd been trying to leave behind. I tried to hide from it,
I realized: I wish I'd just get wrecked, be carefree and destroy myself,

the dance I do with
myself
somehow, deliberately stomping on
my own feet.

stopping just before the gap oh-
I mind it
don't mind if I
do pass right THROUGH it.

shoot the foot? I have holes
to the stars.

I could hang hooks on the wounds I've
pierced in my nervous little soul.

Confident bark, blink and nod.

"Padlocked and sealed," I'll say.

But through my teeth, raw, I know I'm just treading mud
and banking on the Gods.

I line up my pins
Stand back
Admire them
Just to knock them down