Seven Year Itch

I cannot forgive you,
The man who has hurt me. 
But I can forgive the child that was 
      Before you became this monster. 
He was innocent once.
Before we all grew up and started trying to kill each other
     And loved and adventured without fear of a THE END.

You sang hypnotically to my soul
     And I ran because I saw that you were bleeding and needed me.
There was so much red I stopped being able to see straight.
I knew that you were going to be one for the books.
I have fallen and gotten scraped from time to time,
     But you simply gutted me.
In what feels like seconds you had me drowning 
     In your hypnotic confusion.

The words you spoon fed me were holy.
Not like religion as you had hoped, 
     But like Swiss cheese.
I still nailed myself to a cross made out of apologies anyway.
I know I'm nothing to you.
I'm a fucking plagiaristic copy of every other being 
     You spewed invisible promises at.
I'm still finding myself wanting answers to this myth of yours.
You were always more beautiful as a stranger.
Are you sick or just from Hell?

One of these days I will forgive myself for falling in love
          With someone who never existed in the first place.
In minutes I was ripped from my happy place by you.
And somehow thought I'd be fine
          And just grateful that I made it out of your sickness alive.
Bright sides...
     There'd be no art if your rose colored glasses 
          Weren't kaleidoscopes in disguise.

I keep wondering why I'm not telling myself 
     That I'm going to be alright.
I'm reaching,
     But there are not arms for me to find solace in.
There is something about this new found silence that now has me more scared 
     Of being alive than of dying.
I am an escaped hostage who can't find her way home 
     Standing in her own living room.

I was always the brave one.
         The warrior.
If you know what's good for you,
     You'd drop the act and do the right thing.
You should have killed me.
As always it was half-assed 
     And still managed to rip everything I am out of my soul.
I'm still in here somewhere.
What will you do when you find that your discarded pawn 
          Was really the queen you were searching for?
I still find beauty in your "almost".