I am the problem.
There's no beating around the bush with it unfortunately.
There's only so many years, so many attempts, so many chances, before that problem becomes glaringly obvious.
It's not that I will die alone because no one is what I crave.
It's that when I wrap my vines around a new host, I become the parasite.
My only goal is to return to my desired host. Myself.. Alone.
A new tree is just a spot for me to suck nutrition from.
I am so scared of being alone that I will twist and leech anything you have until its gone.
I will create my own truth for my own sadistic need to be right.
I am my own downfall, and you are my collateral damage.
I am self -fulfilling the prophecies I spoke into existence long before you came around.
How could you know any better, when I didn't even realize it myself until it was too late for you?
What do I do when I know ill be the cause of our ruin.
How do you protect what you love when you're the fire burning it all down.
The tighter I hold the longer you suffer.
But what if I am too weak to give you up...
YOU ARE READING
No one is there
Poetrypoetry book. all the things I've written that I could never say out loud. Some topics may be difficult for some people so check for disclaimers .
