My insecurities are like police on patrol,
guarding a set of never ending stairs into my heart,
even though I don't want this distance between us.
I'm tired of waiting for you to come back,
but I realise you got tired of waiting in line
for a cold, unreachable heart.
I can't deny I want you back,
even though I feel dead to you as can be.
I just can't carry on with you not loving me,
I don't want to lose what was once the biggest part of me,
even though I hate what you do when you turn a blind eye
to the desperate pleas within my insecurities.
Our demolition was premature,
and I accept responsibility for that,
but please,
if you love me,
do not walk out on me
and put the blame of the demolition
where it should not be.
