There's holes in your redemption, there's cracks between your apology
I feel as if someone is being ingenuine with their apology, like their actions don't match their words, like I can not trust them when they say they'll do better, because I am used to being let down, to being lied to
Everything you stand for is slipping between my fingers and leaking onto the ground, it's bitter substance like turpentine, ready to catch light
I feel as if I'm trying to hold onto each sorry they give me, because even if it hurts I want to believe them, I want to know that maybe they do care, even though I understand this is something I need to address, I won't, and so inevitably it does seep through, it leaks onto the ground, which represents that in a way by holding something back, I am setting myself on fire, and now I'm forced to accept what's to come
The flame flickering within is something I don't dare let see the sun, for fear it will trickle onto the floor in a scarlet haze and burn where I stand
The flame within (my love for someone, something uncontrollable, something potentially dangerous) is something I try to hide away, because once this issue sees light, once it's brought to this other persons attention, their is no stopping, it will drop onto the ground where I have let their broken promises soak, and then I will be lit ablaze, my love for them, the problem at hand, will burn
Until I am nothing but a pile of ashes, a collection of a regret that was flickering it's amber light in the shadows, my heart caught fire
Me trying to convince myself and push on past their ways of hurting and disrespecting me, me trying to surpress my urges to control, to take responsibility for their fuck-ups, will become more than just the small light in the shadows, so much my heart will die out as well (the place that's able to keep them captive, my care for them)
It's burning sensation awoke and crawled it's way up my throat, my words became singed and scarred
I am now lying to this other person, in order to keep this jumbling mess inside that will eventually errupt into chaos, though the words that do slip out are tainted by my hurt, so much trying to contain this already in-action butterfly effect, will burn my throat, making me unable to speak, speak for my mind, speak for my needs, speak for myself
The acrid blaze burnt an aching hole through my lungs, each breath I took became an endearment of my own self competence, of this unfair ritual of habit and mistreatment
My lungs represent the thing that keeps my heart going, the thing that's in the background, often mistreated, hence the smoke, this is supposed to symbolize my own self-knowledge or instincts of what's truly going on, kind of like a consciousness in the back of my mind desperately trying to remind me this is not okay, and now this situation is serious, each breathe I take is a reminder I am stuck in a cycle of taking responsibility for their actions, for their mistreatment and disrespect towards me
I tried to engulf my lungs with the sweet refreshment of oxygen, to ease my body with this breathe of air it so desperately needed, it cried out for
Only now am I trying to take care of myself, reverse this damage while also acknowledging the pain that has already been dealt, my body is crying out to be respected, listened to, cared for, noticed, equalized, seen as enough
But the flare and flash of my own wildfire was not shy with its smoky embrace, as it fell to my feet and formed a ring around the ideals I stand for
My consistent urge to control errupted, it caught the sunlight and basically says you did this to yourself, setting my emotions, my needs, my morals, aflame
As if testing me, it's bronze and maroon gaze full of malice, it's ginger teeth a cackling quiver of flames, mocking me in an almost sadistic manner
Basically the same concept, though now as my feelings, needs, principles, are being confronted, are being mocked, a symbolism of my self-disrespect
Asking me, in its waver of cackling incineration and roar of a scorching, searing beauty of humanity
I'm asking myself--
How the tiny little illumanted dance, only a marigold gleam of eyes in the dark, became the very thing that leads to my own inevitable destruction--
How something that started off as something that was once so small, so innocent, so naive, so unpredictable, could become a raging forest fire
How the one thing that was originally meant to protect me from the harsh cold, the haunting gloom, the endless array of a silent echo with each and every beat, it's eerie melody vibrating through my bones--
How (love / someone) that was supposed to protect me, was originally their to make me happy, to bring light to my darkness, to being warmth to my cold body, to fill my bones with a symphony rather than an ache--
Became the dangerous ruinous of an overkindled flame, a feverous intensity, a turbulent inferno, a frenzied burgundy of passion, of persistence
Became an overkindled flame (someone who is coddled/excused/ignored for their cruel or belligerent actions) a feverous intensity (a lovestruck rush) a turbulent inferno (a center of self destruction from the inside-out) a frenzied burgundy of passion (a craze of love, of lust) of persistence (a push on even through the wrong doings)
Something that didn't know how to stop, how to restrict it's lapping amber obscurity, just a whistle in the wind, a rampant bonfire in the breeze
This continuous cycle of toxicity something that no longer has limits, so much that I treat that small flame the same as a mass spread of fire
Mmmm, unjustified ending, I have no idea how to end this one
