Is it true that it hurts there? When you touched me, there was no way in this world I would’ve let you go on further but I forget, I wasn’t in this world. I was in yours.
There must be some collective lines where I can tell you that life after you would be something close to recovery but all in vain. You are a constant discovery.
When I opened up to you, I would imagine I would feel lighter, safer and perhaps even whole. I find myself picking up pieces of myself along with stains of you on me and it doesn’t feel too good.
I don’t have abandonment issues, I just really needed something less flaky. Stern and strong; you were this wayward bullet that constantly took up battles and battles of me when I didn’t ask. I never ask.
All I actually wanted was some peace of mind; I have pieces of mine cooked in a soup of salty tears. I’ve got a sweet tooth and this is not my type.
If I could buy a vacuum for all the dust that has accumulated over my weary soul, I would sell an organ to get an instant purification. I don’t want a “light at the end of the tunnel”, I actually just want to turn on the switch and let’s get going.
Turn me down. Turn me off. Turn around and go. Let’s split at the lights and cross down the road. There be zebras there, there be a crowded fair and there be a millisecond smirk.
Turn around, I’m gone.
Remember nothing but the rain that night. Remember nothing but the rain that night.