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.