choose a script

Leave me blank, leave me faded.

Leave me empty and frustrated.

Leave me broken, sore, and slashed.

Leave me hoping that you’ll come back.


Oh, there’s a candle lit upon the desk.

Oh, there’s people who understand.

There are reasons I must stay afloat.

Reasons to appreciate the high and accept the low.


I don’t dance, I don’t cry. I don’t laugh. Only ponder why.

I hum, but I don’t sing. I don’t have the words anymore.

My chest is hollow, bones brittle, lungs deflated, thoughts shriveled.

Spinning on two axles instead of feet, sparks fly but not for you and me.


You grow numb to it over time. You condition yourself to the change.

You know it’s not right, but you won’t allow yourself to run away.

Because things were good in our little, humble Shakespeare play.

But you forgot the script, and I was just a broken, cheap prop.

I’ve ran on what the future holds my whole life that I don’t know when to stop.


I’m not ready to just be thrown away because you found a new script.

I’m not ready for you to abandon me for a new astonishing adventure.

Whether it’s you kissing someone else’s lips or holding a bottle tighter than my waist.

I don’t want everything I felt, everything you claimed to decompose like compost waste.


The curtains shut, they glide across the two hemispheres of the globe.

They collide into one another like two strangers on a busy sidewalk.

A new door opens when ours shuts. Two new chances of love.

But is that what I want? What you desire?

The first sentence wait, and the second saying you’re tired?


I don’t know.

I don’t want to be alone.

-after finally realizing what love is and what’s just a sick joke.

But if I’m so easy to let go-

Is there any point of me trying to stay when your neck kisses are more like a rope around my throat?

I’m just waiting till my eyes close.

Waiting to see if the feeling- the consciousness will flood back to my soul.

Or if you decided to completely let me go.


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