Me? No, not me.

You will not long for me on

Cold nights in your King-sized bed.

There will be no longing

At all.

Future lovers will not hear

About my smile or the way

My eyes soften under the

Gaze of the world.

You will tell them how

Iron tastes, filling your mouth.

You will tell them about me,

Like an infamous book character.

A comic interlude.

How my love is not directed towards

People, but pain.

The way I whisper in ears

Manipulating confessions from your

Tongue, betraying your own body,

Only to hear my laugh in return.

I rock when I cry, and

Scream when things

Bore me.

I was not good for you.

You were not good for me.

My touch was cold and I

Forgot to cry when expected.

Be scared, I get jealous.

Be scared, you know I am

Capable of anything.

Or at the very least, something.

I will not steal your

Heart or mind because you can

Remember the intensity

At which I convinced you of

Insanity- Mine, Yours, Theirs.

You will not turn in the

Night and expect my slippery skin.

I am running away, again.

All I know is running.

You are not familiar with my

Methods of escape.

But you executed it perfectly

When you locked the door

Against that bit of your head I own,

Crying, finally.




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