Once again 4am has become my bestfriend.
When the hour and minute hand meet,
They greet as friends, and that click...
The dreadful sound of seconds passing,
As I think of ways to not think of you.
Overthinking has turned itself inside out;
Pulling my hands from my face and showing me
It's observations and making a mental note
Do I even need to question this?
Should I be questioning this?
When you look in the mirror, and hate what you see...
Am I just that little crack for you to reside in?
My imperfection, to fix yours.
So you feel at peace?
Am I just a coat to keep you warm on days it rains?
When we touch do you feel the same way I do?
Do you think about our fingers?hands?
How cold they are? Maybe too warm?
Maybe questioning roughness?..or softness?
Now of course the answer is "no".
I can spend every minute of everyday thinking,
And thinking,
About all the ways I could try to make it up to you
I don't have enough skin on my body to give- to make everyone else happy.
But I will fucking try!
Because as long as I know that you're asleep and feeling alright,
And that everyone else around me can take a breath,
I'd let myself suffocate and watch my skin scar.
All my life I've been watching the people I care for get hurt...
Because of me.
Feeling their disappointment stares fall to me.
How I'm such a problem to the people around,
And I'm not wanting pity or your apologies.
I just want you to hear mine and take into thought...Or don't.
That I just want you happy even if I'm not that guy.
As much as I will act like I dont care I'm clearly not breathing...
Because I hold my breathe around you.
Not because I have anything to hide,
But because I'm scared of saying the wrong thing...
And watching you leave.
Just like the seconds that passed as you might read this.
Click.