I am hot-blooded fire
with an honest streak a mile wide.
You can see and hear me coming
and feel my warmth from far away.
You were a calculated ice storm
beautiful yet wicked,
taking a while to seep your coldness into the bones
of those who dared to step into your path.
You had so many layers
you would put an onion to shame.
Here was the young, traumatized boy.
Here was the passionate teenager.
Here was the sentimental traveler in love,
here was the aloof lover.
Here was the boy born to stand out,
but here was the man trying to fit in.
Here were your lies, your worries, your fears and your mistakes.
Here were your loves, your laughs, your music, and your friends.
No matter which way I read you,
I always discovered something different.
You didn't like my uncanny insight,
so you left
before I could get to the bottom
of what made you tick.
Perhaps one day
I'll run into you,
and we can get coffee like civil adults.
We'll talk about the city and the weather and our jobs,
and perhaps one of us will breach the topic of our past
with a cautious smile,
and we'll reminisce about the whirlwind romance
we had when "we were kids."
My love for you was rough,
like an uncut diamond
just pulled from the quarry.
Trust issues and caution
settled like dirt on my surface,
but underneath it all was something beautiful
something as strong and as steady
as a beating heart.
But you never saw the beauty, and
didn't care to take the time
to polish me off.
If you love me, let me know
(Play the game, and play it nice)
If you don't, then let me go.
(Play it once, but don't play twice).
You were an actor
on the stage of your own making,
never telling the other players
they were just pawns
to be killed off
before curtain call.
Is there really just one true, great love?
Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder if that person you love
consumes every part of you,
BURNING and BURNING you from the inside out
with such intense passion and heat
that when it's over
your heart becomes an ashy husk,
still able to beat,
but never able to recover
When the going gets tough
(unkind words and lack of empathy and outright lies and twisted games)
The tough get going
(changed plane tickets and phone calls home and quickly packed bags and feeling alone).
You taught me more about love
by keeping it from me,
and more about my self worth
by trying to destroy me,
and more about courage
by being a coward
than I could ever have learned on my own.
So thank you.
I mean it.
has so overridden the good
that I forget
how it felt
to love you.
Sometimes, ya just gotta let the emotions out.