you were my worst decision

you were my worst decision

Never again, I swore to myself

My fingers clutching the pulsating, crimson flesh

They’d torn a line straight through my middle

And however well I’d sutured the wound

It always reopened and bled

They’d left me for the vultures, led and left me astray

So I’d let undiluted ice run straight through my veins

I’d sooner claw my heart out myself

Stick a stake straight through the pulp,

Than let it blacken, decay again

Enter you, the contrarian hero

With a colossal heart, and an even larger ego

You were on your high horse, I was on the rebound

to you,

maybe Stockholm was right, there was something quite

Enticing about toying with fire

You made the rules, so I played by them

toed the line, marched to your time

I’d done it then, stupid, blindly blithe

Moulded myself so I’d

be your type

I’d thought you were the reward, so I

braved the tunnel, in search of the light

But you were my ruining, parading as the prize

I should have seen this coming,

Should have heeded the warning

Love on a leash never would have worked out.

You wanted my love unbridled, yet spooked

when you found out

I was too much, too prone to dramatics, you said

I’ve never been one for common sense

I had your back, but through mine, you stabbed

Your knife of false promises, and on

My black-and-blue bruises, you press

Maybe it’s foolishness, maybe it’s masochism,

My morbid curiosity always drew me to prod at the abscess

You made the joke, I made the mess

Isn’t it funny, that despite all, we still ended up

Like this

Back where I started,

Clearly, I’m not the smartest

Proven though my newfound battle scars

And look at you,

With such joy, with such youth

Nestled within sweatered arms

Are you proud of yourself?

Are you glad it worked out?

For you, of course it did

And I’m sitting here, bitterly

Shredding the tapestries

Made of the memories we’d woven together

I guess you’ll never know now,

Even if I see you around, as

Gooseflesh coats my arms, on the third of December

~~~

This has got to be the strangest thing I’ve written a poem inspired by, but I knew no better way to honour Conan Gray’s absolutely hilarious Spotify Wrapped artist message! This was written solely to fulfil my fangirl obligations, heavily inspired by The Cut That Always Bleeds, The Exit, and obviously, Heather. I absolutely love his lyricisms and the authenticity in the way in which he expresses himself, always unapologetically unafraid to write about his vulnerabilities. Hopefully I did his lyrics justice :)