#27.08.14

My mother and father will be closest to my heart,

but I am working on that every spare second.

My partner has my heart, my every worry,

my every concern;

yet I destroy their every twig of trust,

so what good could I be to you?

My friends, those two brave and perfect souls,

are slowly sliding North and South, respectively

following the Californian coast

without breaching its borders (thankfully);

and my healing hands can only hold one of them

at a time, and even then only when

they grasp tightly back.

All this writ is meant to say:

I cannot care for you.

I am trying to make three new friends––

one pixied angel with impeccable taste;

one old acquaintance

that I still regret never holding close

to let them know how much I cared,

or folding close betwixt us, love;

and one, whom I have already

let down and lost––

and honestly I do not know how much longer

I can keep it up (with school starting again and stuff).

Forgive me and take my spare change:

get on your bus and leave me alone.

For heaven's sake,

take my blood and bones and marrow;

gut this wicked sparrow

most adorable person ever aka Harry Styles