Damage.

One, You are gone, but you long to imprint my life.
Your conscious has influenced mine.
I was so sure, but not anymore.
Have I made a mistake? Is it one I am making?
You are safe, and I could be my darkest in your arms for all eternity.
Though, dust would collect upon the fiery passion I long to clutch in my pale hands.
I have consumed you, in the worst way.

Two, how are you still here?
I've shut you out and broke you down and you still come around.
I was so sure, but not anymore.
This was a mistake, its one I have made.
You are full, with only one chip to the interior waiting patiently for me to fill.
Now, the scale is unbalanced.
I lean to you, but thoughts of future resentment, regret, they hold me where I am.
I have damaged you, in the worst way.

Myself, I have never been so unsure.
Positive, convinced, but unsure.
I wish to freeze time and gaze upon the second face
to feel the touch, the breath, the laugh.
All without the consequence of further damage.
I am strong, but weakened at the thought of loss on either side.
Here I must ponder long on the home of my heart.
Fringed, I am a rope waiting to entwine.
But for who's pulling hands?
I am damaged, in the worst way.