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To love me meant to let go.
He wants to be free but he’s in chains.
Chains of a past so bitter and cold,
Oh how much he resembles it now.
In me he sees a freedom he is too scared to have.
So scared to lose himself in the unknown, unguarded by his walls.
To love me would leave no room for the egotistical character
That he created within to protect himself from love.
No. Pain is what he will choose over me. Pain is what he knows.
If only he could see that without me his world remains dark.
The world will not seize to exist but it will remain empty; tasteless.
On every corner a new possibility will await.
She wears red. She wears black. She wears green.
She knows this and that about the finer things in life.
And her smell is so familiar to him,
He cannot rationalize why.
He can’t see that she is simply wearing the smell of his prison.
What a confident beauty.
The cost of losing me means nothing to him
Only because he has never needed me to break him free.
He loves to play with the key in his back pocket every now and then
And meddle with the idea of being with me.
