The ironic part is that

You held the stars in your eyes

And they lit up my entire universe.

I used your voice as a guideline to where my next step should be

And it was always right behind yours.

Your touch kept me so high on life

And I didn't need any other intoxication to feel alive.

How your grip molded me together so tightly

And the cracks were no longer visible.

But once you stopped looking at me as if I hung the moon in your starry eyes

My whole world turned black.

Once you walked away and left without a sound,

I no longer knew where my next step would be.

Once your fingertips left my skin, I began to soak my bones in alcohol

Just to feel something close to the toxicity that you bathed me in.

Once you let go of me, I shattered to the ground and broke

Into even smaller fragments of glass than the ones you found me in.

You fixed me just to break me again,

And the ironic part is, I let you.

I let you lay me down and cut me open

And explore the map my veins drew for you.

I let you walk down my memory lane

And scatter fractions of your being along the way.

I let you hold my fragile heart

Even though I knew you had shaky, trembling hands.

I let you convince me that practice makes perfect, and even though your love stutters on its words and trips over its own feet, I let you make me your target.

I let you beat me down with broken promises and knives to my back.

and I let you give up before you even got close to loving me half as much as I loved you.

I let you walk away as I bled out every single reason

As to why I'm naive enough to follow you as you leave.