Invincible.

Who knows,
maybe if we were together I would hate you.
Maybe we would fight over trivialities
and break up every other day.

You know I'm desperate
when I say you're the only one I want,
because I can't see myself with anyone else.
That's saying something,
coming from me,
miss sardonic histrionic mysterionic
ugh that isn't even a word.
Fuckery.
Because I don't need anyone.
I crave closeness
intimacy,
yet reject it at every turn.
Would I do the same with you?
I don't know.
I've set you up to be something intangible,
something beyond my own faults and flaws.
I think you're invincible.
And maybe that's enough to save me.

But I don't think so.
I would smile at you after I yell,
and cry after you raise your voice.
I might become a shell of myself,
or maybe be more whole than I've ever been.

I don't claim to understand you
or even hope for your affections.
It is enough for me to see you smile,
and make you laugh.

I would give up so much for you,
I think.
I would freely abandon everything and everyone,
you know.
Your world would be enough.
Say it may be so,
or just let me go,
so that some piece of me might be retained
in the battle for my own heart.