NO ROMANTIC
2:03:00 AM
I've never really known what it's like to get flowers from someone on a regular basis or even on those other useless Hallmark holidays. Valentine's Day was never anything I believed in or found appealing. I always grew my own roses anyways. In my garden, yes, but also in each and every crack and crevice between the pieces of broken pavement in my brain. I let them grow. I set my own expectations and every let down was at my cost, by my own hands. Never anyone else's. In my mind, that doubled as a blessing and a curse. I like the idea of having control; being the only one able to make myself whole.
Hands. Sometimes I get carried away in the idea of someone else's to hold. They remind me of the galaxies fusing to fit; how perfectly the stars align exactly where they are needed, exactly where they fall in place - they just know. Because it's natural. Then again, I remember. Hands. A reparation and demolition tool. I'd rather lose at my own cost, be demolished by my own hands and repaired by the same ones, than be reliant on someone that may never show. Oasis once said something along the lines of never putting your life in someone else's hands, for they have the power to throw it all away. In their case, a rock and roll band, specifically, but in my case - your hands. This is what I fear.
I wrote my own love poems - and no. Not for the reason that you wouldn't write them for me, but because you never wrote the story correctly. You forgot to mention how much I love that Devil and God album by Brand New and even forgot that my backbone runs askew. I took pride in piecing back together my broken spine and growing beds of flowers in my mind; where they would fit and ultimately where they belonged, only because you didn't. I was written into a vision I knew I could never fill, I'm sure you only ever wrote about me for your own selfish thrill.
And as hard as it is to say, I know I will always be partly at fault. I push everyone away, even the ones who want so badly to stay. To those - I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it. I never felt our hands truly did fit.
Clearly, I'm no romantic, but maybe one day I'll understand.
For right now, I'll keep the reparation/demolition all in my own two hands.
x lj
8/20/16
2:03 AM
8/20/16
2:03 AM
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