lately, you're filled with a lot of static and i keep trying to adjust the antenna but you're not coming through any clearer. i know you've got a lot going on and i know you're always at odds with my heart. maybe i don't listen to you enough so you're speaking a whole new language. maybe i can only register heartbeat palpitations. logic never made sense to me.
you've seen a lot of awful things and had to grow up way too fast, but you still manage to shine so bright.
you can't pick and choose what you want to hear. i need to know these things.
stop biting my tongue every time i get the nerve to say something. you're the most vicious thing about me.
you have a lot to say but you never speak up. you're swallowing all my ideas whole.
you're a control freak and an expert at making bad decisions. you have this habit of crawling out of my chest and vacationing at the base of my throat. i wish you wouldn't speak in so many metaphors, too much poetry. nobody wants to hear it. give me something to work with.
i know half of you is damaged. we bonded over it the moment the doctor said it. there's days when you're weak and i push you harder than i should. but more often than not, i could swear on the fact that you're the strongest thing about me. i'm trying to be half as strong. i'll get there.
stop writing letters to the wrong people. put down the pen. put yourself on something that matters.
i know you're sensitive to sounds, to smells, to sights. i know you tumble and spin faster than a washing machine. there's a murder scene with the blood and guts of all the butterflies you've torn up over the years, but yet more and more keep being born. i think you're best friends with my anxiety.
you get weak the minute you see blue eyes or hear his laugh. i know i taught you to be stronger than that.
please fight the urge to run. i want to stay this time.