21st
February 21st, 2010: New Romantic
You stay unmoved, adding notch by notch the belt that I’ve buckled for you for so long. I’m irrational, I’m over dramatic, I’m too romantic, I’m tied up in the chaos I’ve longed to create. So you say. And you let the door close behind you, leaving me with the guilt I spilled down your throat. At least I could say I was happier knowing the morning would come, then laying there for nothing as the afternoon chased me out of bed.
And look at me now, I don’t want a part in it. I don’t want to investigate the ways they’ll give myself back to me, tattered and worn. Letting myself shed with every man who grows tired, until there’s nothing left to give. Wondering why anyone would give away the power I gave you. So I’ve grown, so I’ve isolated my thoughts just a little bit more from my feelings, but now I don’t feel much at all. I look at pairs and think about how he’ll tell her why she’s not enough. And how she’ll cry when she goes too far. And the world they built together will come crashing down, so they can renew their lives for the thousandth time.
This heart of mine isn’t going back on the shelf to be taken, and borrowed, and torn, and kept, and trashed. I don’t want to blame you for the cold shoulder I’ve given to what I used to believe, but I wouldn’t have a doubt unless I had you to prove. I don’t think of you anymore, I’d rather sleep alone. I’d rather be in the misery of the afternoon, then the lies the morning brought. In the numbness, I am safe from being pinned to the ground by a pulse beating out of control. I won’t be liable, I won’t trust, I will happily be hidden in my own loneliness then in the vulnerability you shred from room to room. We’re just creatures, and all we’ve got is ourselves. And I’m too scared to admit that I’m scared.
