I know this is where I rant about how much I hate you,
how you left me out in the cold with the knifes’ edge of your words cutting down my spine, how you made me want you only to saunter off into the horizon---a figment of my imagination.
But the bite marks have faded. And the irony of the situation is that inspite of it all,
I pity You.
Your bandaids litter the glass walls you have confined yourself in and as you sit there picking at the scars, watching the blood flow through your fingers I can’t help but help.
You’ve scratched at my scabs and here I am piecing you together again.
You’ve slipped through your own cracks and I can’t stand by and watch.
I can’t.
But then again, I’m just speculating.
Maybe you’re happier this way, better off.
And maybe these glass walls have been put up for a reason.
And maybe, just maybe they’re not to hold you in, but to keep me out.
how you left me out in the cold with the knifes’ edge of your words cutting down my spine, how you made me want you only to saunter off into the horizon---a figment of my imagination.
But the bite marks have faded. And the irony of the situation is that inspite of it all,
I pity You.
Your bandaids litter the glass walls you have confined yourself in and as you sit there picking at the scars, watching the blood flow through your fingers I can’t help but help.
You’ve scratched at my scabs and here I am piecing you together again.
You’ve slipped through your own cracks and I can’t stand by and watch.
I can’t.
But then again, I’m just speculating.
Maybe you’re happier this way, better off.
And maybe these glass walls have been put up for a reason.
And maybe, just maybe they’re not to hold you in, but to keep me out.
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