and i wonder if i would think of love
in the same way i do now
if i had never met you.
if i had never met you
would i still see love as chains
still see it as the scars across my body
still see it as the fractured, broken pieces of my heart?
if it had not been you
if i had met someone else instead
fallen in love with someone else instead
who loved me back
do you think
i would see love differently?
do you think i would see it as the field of sunflowers in summer?
do you think i would feel it as the warmth of a fireplace in winter?
do you think i would touch it as if a lover?
do you think i would hear it as the sound of your voice?
that sound that makes me stab myself
that makes me cry myself to sleep at night
that sound that killed my elementary self
that sound that killed my fucking head every single night
that name that makes me scream and tear my hair out
that name those words
that makes me want to run the world into bitterness and darkness
so maybe then justice will reign
that perfect little stuck up fuck boy self that you are
the one that makes me irrationally pissed off
the one that's pulling—
no.
i am no longer Pinocchio.
you lit a match
started a forest fire
and you think the forest was what burned me
but it was you
it was your fingertips that burned me
that sent sparks throughout my body
and i learned the hard away
that it takes just a spark to light a fire
but if it only takes one match
to do so much damage
then imagine
how much damage
i could do
with
the
rest
of
the
box
