it isn't those around
is isn't the tantalizing
beauty of the beast
it isn't anything in
particular about them
but about myself.
i have my heart
set to self destruct.
i'm tearing a whole inside myself
and i just cant stitch it shut.
it isn't your stare
or the way you casually
always touch my hair
it isn't the way he walks
or that one talks,
it isn't anything
special about them
it's the broken pieces
the messages lost
inside myself
and it's that fear
that makes me odd.
something is missing
and i know that having
my heart set to self destruct
wont mend the whole
but it will perhaps numb the pain.
