how can one unpartnered be whole?
Ah, my once-love. We dance and spin and step together, part and sweep away, come back and meet again...and we learn nothing. We know the steps of this dance so well, but we are stuck in pattern.
I speak truths in words you want to deny understanding. You speak to my heart, and wish that it would sway. I tell you of my vow and you want to speak to him that asked me to swear it. And I can do that no more than I could excise my own heart, and walk away from such a wound.
You ask so much, once-love. You ask me to overturn my life, to remake it in ways injurious and damaging. You offer mist and promises, the assurance that you've changed, and not an action I can see or ask for to prove you actually have. You ask me to give you a second chance, to take you back, when it was you who chose to leave.
You ask for everything. And I do not know what you offer in return, that would be worth sundering myself from those I love. Is love from one, pale and fragile, worth losing love from others? Should that ever be part of the equation, for me? Can I do such a thing without losing what you say you love about me in the first place?
It's morbidly amusing at best...I warn those who come near, warn them of the train-wreck of my life, and so many think it's just a vaguely disturbing jest...I do not jest. I mean it in seriousness, that they need to consider what they do, before involving themselves with me...for at times the train is off the tracks, at times it is ablaze, at times it chugs along, gears grinding, metal creaking in distress...and still it rolls on.
And you bring me kerosene for the engine.
::shakes her head::
More than that, I have given in enough times, allowed talk, allowed contemplation, only to have you turn on me and those I love. How is this not just another trap to draw me in, and wound me deeper? And how many of those wounds do you think I will willingly suffer before I turn from you, where none of your pretty words will turn my heart?
And Lilit wanders Dark City, free at last...Oh, there are so many ways that this will not end well...
I speak truths in words you want to deny understanding. You speak to my heart, and wish that it would sway. I tell you of my vow and you want to speak to him that asked me to swear it. And I can do that no more than I could excise my own heart, and walk away from such a wound.
You ask so much, once-love. You ask me to overturn my life, to remake it in ways injurious and damaging. You offer mist and promises, the assurance that you've changed, and not an action I can see or ask for to prove you actually have. You ask me to give you a second chance, to take you back, when it was you who chose to leave.
You ask for everything. And I do not know what you offer in return, that would be worth sundering myself from those I love. Is love from one, pale and fragile, worth losing love from others? Should that ever be part of the equation, for me? Can I do such a thing without losing what you say you love about me in the first place?
It's morbidly amusing at best...I warn those who come near, warn them of the train-wreck of my life, and so many think it's just a vaguely disturbing jest...I do not jest. I mean it in seriousness, that they need to consider what they do, before involving themselves with me...for at times the train is off the tracks, at times it is ablaze, at times it chugs along, gears grinding, metal creaking in distress...and still it rolls on.
And you bring me kerosene for the engine.
::shakes her head::
More than that, I have given in enough times, allowed talk, allowed contemplation, only to have you turn on me and those I love. How is this not just another trap to draw me in, and wound me deeper? And how many of those wounds do you think I will willingly suffer before I turn from you, where none of your pretty words will turn my heart?
And Lilit wanders Dark City, free at last...Oh, there are so many ways that this will not end well...
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