She meant so much,
even if she couldn't see it herself.
Everything she did
consumed my entire page.
But love,
I never write about happy things.
Pain is my middle name.
She almost contorted my hand
with the taint she held over me.
It was a never ending cycle of misery.
She felt so surreal to me
but this wasn't any dream
this was an ordeal.
I mistaken falling with flying.
Just hoping that if I gave out
she'd catch me.
I guess I wasn't worthy enough
for her to save me.
Make sure I feel like nothing.
"I kept going back because I guess I was so happy someone saw something in me when really they didn't."
But I never did consider myself
as someone to get attached so easily.
She took my hand and told me she
wouldn't let me fall again.
I felt so alive
how could you give that up
when you
thought you had died so long ago?
"Would you give up a second life?"
"Maybe, to see what's on the other side."
But isn't it safer
to stay where you're comfortable,
where you know what to expect?
It is no longer painful,
it's content.
I gave up fighting,
I just hoped she would come back.
But she never did miss the things we had.
And I guess I'm better off knowing
what to expect.
