These late night conversations keep me wondering about you and me,
And whether its even a possibility.
Our insomnia’s seem to enjoy one another,
And our anxiety,
Makes a perfect match.
You can yell or whisper,
Words of love or words of lust,
I don’t seem to mind much.
Every night at 10:01,
I tell myself you’re not the one.
But you promise love and fun,
And I’m right back in.
You’re on the rooftops,
And I know those heights like the back of my red stained hand.
I tell you not to look down,
When all I want is for it to end.
A barbed wire around my world,
And an electric fence around yours,
We seem to be perfectly matched,
In our wonderful, psych wards.
You can’t hear me scream any longer,
The blades have closed my throat.
You’re still able to muster the courage,
Something I lost long ago.
I want you,
I lust for you,
And I love you all the same.
But I know you’re not strong enough,
To play my heads fatal games.
So, I’ll ask you to love me,
And shed my tears when you keep me at arms length,
But I know it’s for your own good,
For you to stay away,
From my red stained lips,
And my mental state.