𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜
𝚃𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐,
𝙰𝚜 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎;

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎,
𝙴𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘-𝚍𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚜;

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕,
.
.
.
𝙰 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎
.
.
.
𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢.

No. No, I'm not.
Those words should warm my heart but instead they just fill me with dread and despair,
I want to be loved,
I want to be waited for,
I want to be wanted,
but not by you.

"Stop making me fall for you."
I'm trying. I don't want you to fall,
but you're plummeting towards the ground at 100 miles an hour and I will not be there to catch you.
I don't want you to love me,
I don't want you to wait for me,
I don't want you to want me,
but I don't want to break your heart.

"I can't wait for the future."
But I'm still hung up in my past.
I want to get married,
I want to have children,
I want to grow older,
but not with you by my side.

"Honesty could never hurt me, you can't hurt my feelings."
But I can break your heart.
You've given me everything I need to shatter it into two,
three,
four million pieces.
but what kind of person would that make me, to break something so fragile?


I will never grow to love you,
no matter how long you wait.
I don't want to break your heart, but keep pushing
and it might end up being too late.

learning to not belong,
to continue d r i f t i n g without
being lost nor found.