I don’t know how I feel for this man,
Outside exterior cold at hand,
Even as colder as the gun in his pants,
But his heart is long gone in the fireplace,
Waiting to be burned alive with someone else’s warmth,

And I can see,
A match in my pocket,
Screaming to be burned for that purpose,
But I shouldn’t be that reckless,
But the guilt is eating me alive,
This is the same man we despised,

So who decided to think it was okay,
To break the heart in pieces and ache,
Just to give that one piece to him,
Knowing he might never cherish it,
The same way we would cherish the heart of ice in the fireplace to begin with.

She would be afraid of us if she knows we might have feel so much for him,
When he felt a bit,
Just a front he would pinch,
But the flower in his vase is real,
We planted the seed and let it grow and not wilt,
But it’s so hard to repress it,
Push it down and cry and lock it,

We almost died by our own thoughts because we wouldn’t want to lose him now,
And losing him would be losing ourselves,
Hang us on a wall not a shelf,

We are not meant to love each other,
Like the fires in our hearts which was given by our mothers,
The same fires that would caused the entire world to burn because we couldn’t combine the flames and let the love burst,
Because it would do more than hurt,
It would strike and hiss and hide and ache,
And we’ve had enough on our dining plates.

You are a man women tried to break,
I am only a side piece u could take,
And I’m far more younger than the house beside the lake,
And too young for your aunt to defend you now and your sake,
Do not test me because I will run again,
To the mist,
To the reverse,
To the end of the world to take a break,
From you and from everything but we love you too much and maybe that’s the dependency talking,
And GOD we hate you and we love you and the distance is pushing buttons,
And this poem doesn’t make sense,
Because my love for you is the same,
It’s a mess,
It’s a f****** mess.