Falling into the sink hole brimmed with pretty flowers,
to distract your naive eyes
from the aphotic subterrane
just past the things that sparkle.
We put pretty bows on vulnerability,
and call it 'love'
pretending that it will chase the monsters away,
when it really just creates them.
I fell into your calloused hands,
yearning for them to cleanse me
of my murky insecurities,
instead they scrutinized my character,
and I saw my confidence leave me
in pretty ribbons of melted gold.
I once saw the sunrise from the back of a Toyota pickup,
by a creek with cold water and sour memories,
but there was more light in my head then,
because that was long before I started to see my father in your scarred face,
and before you asphyxiated both me and my hopes in you.
I swallowed pain and brushed off distress,
through stale promises and pretty jewels.
You told me it's better to let things go,
and I'm still not sure
why I believed in you so ******* much.
You lived by the motto 'no worries'
and so you were reckless,
and stupid,
and all wrong for the girl
who wraps caution tape over every decision she ever makes.
Things fall apart,
and people fall apart,
and ideas of someone that have been built up in your head for five years
can crumble from just one sleep deprived night,
when you 'calmed me down'
the same way my father used to.
And with bitter content,
and finally no more regret,
I hope Hakuna Matata works out for you,
and I hope she never drinks as much of your poison as I did,
because stains on the heart,
do not come out from swallowing bleach.
