I thought I would be okay.
But at every mention of your name, I fall to my hands and knees and scrape innocent layers of skin on the scorching pavement of a summer's sun.
Blisters form and overwhelm my once silken flesh, now stone.
I'm a wreck at your doing, yet you're utterly oblivious.
For I wear an iron mask to hide my weaknesses, and you aren't the slightest bit curious enough to peak underneath it, although I'll always allow it.
It wasn't love, but an almost unreasonable trust.
A trust I don't comprehend giving to you.
You can't give someone a match and gasoline and tell them not to make a fire.
It was my fault for having so much faith in you.
Either you break someone else, or they break you, and I knew I would never willingly let you go.
You ripped us apart and I severed any last thread of connection we might still have had.
I was hoping this would allow me to forget about you, but I only think about you more.
Unfortunately, you replay in my mind like a broken record and I can't get you out.
You make me want to claw any reminiscence of you out of my head and drown myself in all the pain you have caused me.
Yet I know if you ever did come running back, despite the aching rivers I've cried in your name, I would still greet you with open arms.
You echo all around my thoughts, yet the only signs of your presence are the icy tears that run down my cheeks.
And I can't even hate you for that, for they cool my blisters.
