You Were Scared To Ruin Me

You were scared to ruin me

I assured you that you wouldn't

The unsaid truth was this:

I was already ruined

Long before I met you

Long before I knew how to love

And even before you became my home

.

But you left and it felt like death

Everyone said I'd get used to it

The cruel desire was this:

I don't want to get used to you

I don't want time to heal me

I always want you to be

An unbearable ache that kills me

.

My mind is being held hostage by you

And even in grief you feel like home

The maddening question is this:

Will you love the monster in me?

Will you love me at the end of the world?

Will you simply just love me?

If to love is to rest then I will perceive death for you.

For what greater form of rest do we know than to lie in the cold, dark earth forever?

The worst thing you ever did was to make me believe I could be loved

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To simply exist in all her devotion.

Unguarded

I'm sorry I let you see me unguarded.

Let you see my darkness, left you forever haunted.

I'm sorry I killed you with my insecurities.

The atrocity, your ghost is keeping me company.

I'm sorry If I ever dared to make you cry.

For even the skies could fade at the blue of your eyes.

I'm sorry I could never quite be adequate.

You deserve everything and I'm so horribly limited.

I'm sorry I dreamt of us, peaceful under the moon.

A fever dream for someone who only knows how to ruin.

I'm sorry I blamed everything on the distance.

I can't get you to love me without this deafening silence.

I'm sorry I ever thought that we were binary stars.

Always said "I understand" even with a shattered heart.

I'm sorry I didn't listen to my obscene thoughts.

When they precisely said that misery was all I brought.

I'm sorry my hatred wasn't loud enough to hide yours.

A wreckage cannot be loved. I should've hidden my scars.

I'm sorry I ever let you see the real me.

I'll stay constrained just so you won't leave.

I'll hide myself a little to help you breathe. 

If life is a cold, harsh night

You are the moon that makes it bearable

For what other thing would thrive?

Even in the most monstrous forms of dark?

If to love is to rest

Then I will perceive death for you.

For what greater form of rest do we know?

Than to lie in the cold, dark earth forever?

If to long is to grieve

Then I shall make home of a funeral

For what harsher grief it is?

Than to irreversibly lose someone