Find a reason to make me stay.

Push down all of the thorns  covering my body and search for the roses.

Filter out all of the memories of bad and replace them with those of enticement.

I will find any reason to leave.

At the slightest change of tone I will already have my bags packed.

If your hands feel as if they no longer belong on me, then I am sorry my love, but I must flee.

It is better for you this way.

I will twist the thought of you around in my mind until your angelic words turn denomic.

I will not look back on the memories filled with late night laughter and daytime adventures.

I will look back and hear the screams my lungs hurled at you and the tears that poured down my cheeks.

Once it is done, I will leave you lost

rearranging the puzzle pieces trying to figure out where the final piece lied.

I am sorry, my love, but that piece was never meant to exist.