He is like a calm breeze before the storm, exploding without warning into a tsunami and sweeping everyone in his path up with him- he is creation and destruction, sweetness and sorrow.
And foolishly I have fallen.
He has caused these wings to sprout, giving me flight, yet they become heavy with his apathy, his dark bitterness consuming the very air around me. I want back the days he spoke of cherry blossoms and conquest, when he spoke of his rage against his enemies- anything save for his apathy. His coldness wounds me, his alluding to the "irrelevance" of my care a spear to my soul.
My heart so foolish, my head so illogical.
This is why I remain beautifully broken.
And foolishly I have fallen.
He has caused these wings to sprout, giving me flight, yet they become heavy with his apathy, his dark bitterness consuming the very air around me. I want back the days he spoke of cherry blossoms and conquest, when he spoke of his rage against his enemies- anything save for his apathy. His coldness wounds me, his alluding to the "irrelevance" of my care a spear to my soul.
My heart so foolish, my head so illogical.
This is why I remain beautifully broken.
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