good morning, shattered lullaby;
i wish i could gather up all the red balloons and confetti in the world, just so you could feel at peace with your conscience. but you already stated numerous times that i was unable to fix you. yet, i'm still strutting around your fenced-in confessions, trying to depict their actual intention. and though it's gotten me nowhere except rewriting paragraph after paragraph of delusional phrases, it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter as long as my upbeat tonsils have the ability to temporarily allow oxygen to enter and depart from your catatonic lungs.
even if in the end, i'm left to repair my own.
and yes, that damn well makes you selfish for
nearly destroying me months before, and leaving
me to conclude the emotions you dangled behind i
n your shadow for me to render. but though i
should despise you for cradling me effortlessly
somewhere near the finish line, i somehow contain
large amounts of tainted love for you in each
chamber of my heart. and i know i could never
sketch enough pictures or write enough poetry
to win you over, so i'm blending with your
unstable emotions so you can recognize how
much i care.
so i won't apologize for enhancing honesty or
portraying myself as [un]available to you,
because that's what friends do. i won't clench
my fists and shove the obvious so willingly in
your face, because that's what friends do. and
though i've grown tired of attempting to find
the diameter of your systematic heartbeat,
i won't give up on you; even if i'm forced to
connect the dots to find myself, because
that's.what.friends.do.
and i'll have you know that everyone thinks i'm too good
for this; that this isn't even a partial of what you truly deserve.
but i haven't watched you completely teeter from reality, so
by widening my ear canal and allowing you to demand
proposals on what you should do with your love life must
have really tarred your bones somehow, for you haven't
fallen beneath the crooked atmosphere
[yet.]
maybe i might has well had fractured my
own spine when i told you my shoulder
was always available for you to lean on.
or maybe, as cliche as it sounds,
[iwasonlytryingtoloveyou.]
---> ♥
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