the one before you tried to heal my scars.
he always said
"baby, no one wants to buy damaged goods."
and i always nodded my head, kissed his cheek,
let him try and heal my scars so i would be
his perfect angel.
then you came along,
you encouraged me to leap under the fiery sun,
let my scars burn white hot like an angel's wings.
you always said
"baby, no one wants a carbon copy;
your scars make you the best kind of uniquely beautiful."
and although you may be gone now,
i will always remember to dance under the fiery sun
and let my scars burn white hot...
just like an angel's wings.

friends can come and go
like a breeze,
a comforting warmth,
or leave you
with a cold shoulder.

but one day,
the wind will be more.
it will be a tornado
in the shape of a boy
that you love.

i fear that one day
my tornado will come,
sweep me off of my feet,
and leave me with the breath
ripped out of my chest.

with words made of thread and
lips like a needle,
you weaved your words through me,
healed me, closed
all wounds.
but the thread was thin,
easy to break, and
with the slightest force, it snapped.
each time i turned away, there you were
with that same golden thread and those same loving lips,
ready to fix me over
and over again.
but how many times can the wound reopen
before it can’t be sewn up again?
how many times can i get my heart broken,
before learning that it’s okay not to forgive?
how many times does it take for you to pull back
until one day, finally
you just don’t come back?

congratulations
you did it
you found the last straw
my breaking point
you lost me
and probably didn't deserve me anyways

s.s