You were worth it; I had to try, but now I feel lost like a child left alone by his parents in the mall. One day we're two peas in a pod, inseparable; you make my heart flutter with every move you make. The next we're strangers, barely speaking, with not one glimpse of each other, not one glance, and a rift larger than the continental divide.
I don't know if I am being puppeteered by my insecurities or if you're playing me like a fiddle; this is a different kind of hurt. All my life I have been chasing the skirts, never catching up, gasping for air, my heart beating faster than the gallop of the horses. The euphoria always came with the hurt. I felt great pity for myself, but I kept on chasing; perhaps running into the void was a kink in itself. But with you, there is no euphoria, only confusion. My heart is playing tricks on me, not the other way around, as I would've preferred.
Cruel world, my heart is breaking cause of you, and yet when you make your move again, I fall right into your arms, right into the game you set up so delicately. I choose to ignore the red flags and refuse to wave the white flag, so hopefully at the end of this there will be no black flag. I am putting my stake in your heart; I am not ready to leave.
