bbygirl

consistency 

reciprocity

intimacy 

chemistry

humor

honesty

all the memories of my past tainted, painted dark where there was once light

my happiness has grew into spite, and I fight with all my might to detain the things that bring me pain

But the truth remains that things are not the same I have to reconstruct my view and the picture perfect image I painted of you, and adapt to the change.

Am I to blame? I viewed you under lenses that covered every blemish and what I could not see through tattered frames I painted myself.

I made you out to be the things that I need, and when you would plead for me to see and to believe I would concede

and at the end, I would cover the cuts that you carved with your knife so that I would not bleed onto you.

My do I pale in comparison of the stories you tell

You never exclude the black and white

And all the shades of grey in between

You mesmerize me, and quiet the screams beneath the tattered seams of my mind.

you have no idea how long the dark lasts

when you cannot close your eyes to it.