I couldn’t be more restless
if I tried.
I couldn’t be more breathless
if I died.
But, I couldn’t just simply let you
treat me like I was only something fun to do.
You know if you called for me—
I mean really called for me
and meant it—
well, then goddammit,
there I’d be.
I’d speak to you in tongues
and in languages that words could never say.
I’d breathe you deep into my lungs,
gasping for air to this very day.
But, you loved yourself more,
you just don’t know yet
what it is you’re looking for.
I think you couldn’t be more restless
if you tried.
You couldn’t be more enigmatic
with a better place to hide,
buried deep inside yourself
only showing people what you want them to see.
You’re unknowable, untouchable,
and that’s how you prefer yourself to be.
Let me tell you that
when everything is said and done,
you don’t protect your heart
by pretending you don’t have one.
The day that you told me
that we both would live.
You killed the part of me
that I wanted most to give.
You just couldn’t be,
and there’s nothing more to it.
Now, I’m getting back to me,
and there’s no way to undo it.