Don’t.

Don’t love me.

That’s on the top of my list

Of things I want to say to you

But can’t because

I’m so afraid of hurting you.

It’s like looking out the window and

Deciding to explore that blank curtain of fog

But I can’t get out the door because I’m locked inside.

Break the glass,

Climb out the window.

I can’t.

Can’t leave you by yourself.

Too patient, too kind;

Go ahead and take advantage.

Break me.

Go ahead coward, try.

If I give you a moment you take a light-year

And I always forgive you because

I

Can’t

Hold

A grudge.

But then,

When you manage to stir me,

Make me angry

Say something as stupid as

“No one likes me anyway.”

Those are the words I want to throw back in your face.

Choke them down.

I hope the vomit burns as sweet as I’ve been told I am.

“Oh, poor thing; your life is so hard.”

Sometimes when I’m with you I can hear my favorite song, the sound of pounding rain on a tin roof and the crackling of a fire in the hearth.

Thunder.

I used to enjoy your company.

Sometimes I pity you. You are such a teenager.

And you dive into your puddle of pity.

You dive in without knowing the depth (believe me, it’s shallow)

And stay curled up on the bottom, drowning, until I fish you out and tell you that everything will be okay.

But you know what?

There are a hell of a lot of things that will never be okay.

Ripped butterflies’ wings and silent children and the dulled red stain on the sidewalk

Where that man jumped out of a building this summer.

Someone tries to scrub it out now and then

But everyone will see the outline whether it’s really there or not.

I see through you.

Even when you’re wrong

You just counter with the same point over and over and

Don’t love me.

I can’t feel the way you feel.

I’m putting the envelope back in your mailbox for the hundredth time, the one you always leave at my door because I don’t want to open it. It’s still sealed

Because I already know what’s inside.

I don’t want it.

Your faults are too much for me.

In no way

Would I consider myself the image of perfection

But you are just downright intolerable.

I know it’s hard to climb out of a hole when you’re looking up from the bottom

And that circle of light seems impossibly far but you can’t decide not to climb

Because no one wants you to get out.

That kind of logic you have,

It makes me want to grab fistfuls of my hair and rip it from my head.

 

This is the part where my shoulders sink.

And I let out a sigh.

Her hair is blonde. A little bit red. She’s beautiful.

Sleeping with her head on your shoulder, she looks like an angel. As though she stepped through a cloud and landed in your arms.

And I

Want that

For you.

I am not jealous.

I daydream that you look her in the eyes

And tell her

That you love her.

But that’s as impossible

As the words like autumn leaves blowing across my mind,

Nudging, scratching, swirling over the sidewalk of thoughts

And asking: Are you awake anymore? Do you care?

I want to fold up my memory of us

And place it in a shoebox with a valentine I never sent

And a book I’ve never read

And a string of things I never said

And put the lid on tight

So I can pretend I never kept you in the dark.

I’m sorry.

That’s on the top of my list

Of things I want to say to you

But can’t because

You never let me say I’m sorry.

But you make me sorry for what I am and what I can’t be and

Don’t tell me that I shouldn’t be sorry because

This is the part where I scream.

You’ve apologized more than enough.

Pass me the dice

It’s my turn.

Don’t tell me that it’s all your fault

I can’t stand hypocrites!

Just shut your mouth and listen to me

For once!

If only once.

You can sit here as long as you want

And watch the seconds tick by

I’m not waiting anymore.

Maybe you’ll find out what alone really feels like.

But you won’t have to

If you

Don’t love me.

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