Strangers.

take me home,

maybe i'll fall in love with it again.

maybe i'll see past myself and my drained thoughts this time,

maybe i did so before,

i'll try harder, this time, i promise.

take me to the same places we laughed in.

don't take me to the walls where i confined myself and my sorrows in.

lock the room in which you criticised my poems.

i do not want to cry anymore.

maybe something is broken in me.

my skin has never been touched.

I've pushed away the soul that loved me.

i saw myself around people that loved me,

they claimed i never loved them.

i did nothing to prove them wrong either.

i was tired.

i was tired, tired of being tired.

tired of percentages,

of words, of tears that never were seen.

of the laughter fleeting, paining.

i'm sorry,

sorry, you don't get to know what i feel.

i'm sorry.

am i?

sorry?

lights, in your fingertips.

you knew how to kill someone and shatter their body,

leave them on the floor,

and then love them than the minute before.

do you love me that way?

if this is love i do not want it.

are we together anymore?

are we happy?

my words protrude beyond sensible pain.

you do not understand me in this version.

every heart holds light and darkness.

my sins are not your needles.

being prolific of another last time.

we are not lovers.

we are strangers different.

always loved.

love,

someone you knew.