You Were Not My Intention
You make precise decisions on what you say to me while planning our hellos and goodbyes at the same time.
You make me want you enough to stay, but hate you enough to leave.
Empty conversations filled with lies and small talk leave me wanting to shred the transcript my mind has recorded.
After talking I feel like nothing has been accomplished and more problems arise.
I can’t call it a mistake if it’s a mistake I choose to make, at that point it’s a decision.
I board myself up for days and turn out the lights because I’d rather be in the solitude of darkness then have to openly mourn just the thought of you.
It’s as if you’ve vanished because I let you have a part of me and now I don’t matter enough, nor have I ever.
You were a light pillar of hope that gleamed at dusk but I hit the rocks anyway.