Dream Big, Angel

I'm not sure I can follow through with whatever my heart dictates. I feel like I'm a spilt neon light in the back alley of the pub, a symbol of the refraction of your love after the course of our relationship. I'm just the stepping stone of your life; I knew I would never remain as a constant.

I guess that if love is never going to last forever, then it's just a waste of time and hearts. I don't want to reboot any moment that I feel like I'm getting torn apart. Why is it that I die for you, while you die in another's arms? You're dragging the short leg of the corpse of our relationship on the palms of the hands you share with others. I don't know what my goal is, I just know that without you, the days fall into a deeper and darker gray than usual.

Sometimes I wonder what crosses your head. If, at any given moment, you spend a single moment thinking of me - a fraction of the life time I've spent writing about you. I hope you know that you were all that was left for me in this deadbeat town. The streetlights don't sing to me like they used to, and the tender smell of rain is just reminiscent of our parting. I don't want to remember the words you said, but they cross my head like a million fireflies running to the light.

I read your letter, the one you left me asking me to never let you go. I'm sure you never meant that love could stop like a burnt out cigarette. We're at the center of the hurricane, crossing over through the waves of a spinning disaster that will tear my heart apart and spread it to the world. I'm worn out and broken apart, and your lips stutter as you pretend that we're OK. I don't want to be the only one lying when I say that things were better off two months ago, when our fingers intertwined on the broad sight of day.

As I write this, I'm left wondering what is left for me to be; maybe I'll just be the washed up return of the former love, the ashes of a flame once so tall that left the roof of your brain on fire. They say that when your heart's burning, the smoke gets in your eyes, and it's finally clear to me that I am diseased. This love you triggered is a curse.

I have parataxic distortions that will lead me through the mediocre thought that you deserve better, even when your makeup runs on another cheek. It's a tragedy you live for the comedy of life. When you said the time was wrong, I don't think you realized that once let go, the wind you catch will never be the same. You threw caution to the wind with your shaky arm along with your head. Rolling in the deep, I'm just a worn out pavement, the only thing that tenderly strokes my lips when I hit the ground.

I'm not sure I want to get up - I rather avoid the opportunity to fall for you altogether. I'll drag my body for the remaining three months on the down-low, never alone but never without heart. I sing for the stars - but that's a story for another time.

You keep me hopeless and tied to a life that felt like a roman candle to my heart. Set off the images of the words that run off the PA system on the walls, claiming to fix the broken tragedy that struck this life. Burn up the solar system in your eyes, glistening stars on the universe of your retina. Stare straight up at me and beg for a kiss, I just don't want your lips to forget the ones that gave them the most love they will ever feel. Give me the look of love - connect your jeweled eyes with mine. Sometimes I love you the most when you light up your eyes.