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.
