I bent;
broke and shook even.
Died a bit inside.
At the time it wasn’t death.

Stupidly blind,
I gave you more than you
were ever willing to give anyone.
At the time it wasn’t death.

You crashed my momentum;
threw my balance like a
raging gust of wind.
At the time it wasn’t death.

But I reached a height with you.
Not just physical. I felt that.
That night in the tent.
At the time it wasn’t death.

Warmth replaced the usual
cold in your chest.
Thawing your core just slightly.
At the time it wasn’t death.

In naivety I gave my precious
time to you; mind and body.
Even the slightest look melted me.
At the time it wasn’t death.

I finally told you how I felt.
I got back apathy. You really
know how to break someone.
It was then I took my last breath.

You may have killed a part of me,
but I know I took a part of you.

“You are so lame, you know?
You always disappoint me.
It’s kind of like our running joke,
But it’s really not funny.
And I just want you to live up to
The image of you I created
I see you and I’m so unsatisfied
I see you and I dilate.”
— Ani Difranco (via laceythelush)