When he tells you his thoughts on life
And you see the charm in his crooked smile,
You will fall victim to his charisma.
He will hold you on that picnic blanket
While you gaze up at the glowing orbs the sky has Provided.
And while you wonder what's all out there, he will be coming up with a poetic answer.
He'll say, "to dance among the stars and swim through galaxies, would be grand."
But when the day comes and he feels like he can trust you,
His walls will crack.
He will start asking you to run away with him
And when you brush it off your shoulder like a piece of lint stuck to your blouse
He will plead with you that he's being serious.
You will spend days not seeing or talking to him
But the next time you do he will be covered in bruises.
You'll ask him where they came from.
He'll shrug and say, " I got in a fight."
Some days he will be so narcissistic the next he will scream at you that he isn't good enough.
You can't help but want to help him but
It's almost like he has you on a chain in his front
Yard,like a dog, and always walks around you just out of reach.
Soon you won't know if the cuts and bruises are because of his father or in fact himself.
He will be hard to handle and you'll want to fix
His broken pieces
But when he ends up in the hospital with
Three broken ribs simply because
he wanted to know how it felt to jump out the second floor, you'll break like the ribs in his
Chest.
Worrying, not sleeping, not wanting to believe he
actually could be insane.
The guy with the angelic voice, soft skin and.......
Mental illness?
When he kisses you, you think, "he's going to be okay."
But when he gets that distant look in his eyes and starts rubbing his hands together, you ask yourself,
" Will he actually be fine?"
When he shows up at your door
At 4:00 in the morning,
Pouring down rain,
You let him in and offer him a towel to dry off.
He tells you about his past and you finally
Fall in love with
The true him.
Not the fake facade
Or the crazy self destructor.
The one that struggles to stay alive.
The one who is looking for guidance.
The one that has lost all hope.
Three days later you get a phone call that
His demons over powered him.
That he couldn't stand it any longer.
That he found a way out the only way he thought he could.
In the note he said,
"I am alone.
No one knew the real me.
And no one cared."
I did. I knew. I was there for you.
-(cm)
YOU ARE READING
Paper Cut Poems
RandomThe poems I write. They are mix-matched like regular poetry books. Like "The collection of Edgar Alan Poe" or Jack Frost. So I guess you could say it's "The Collection of CeCe Metcalf" Hope you enjoy.