Mushy

You poke me where it hurts, I'm pouring sugar down your wounds. Let us chalk this up, to dead, fake that we couldn't instill and ignite the enormous and beautiful potential stifled within us both. I have been cold, far from the warmth of your heart, and comfort of your laugh. I have been so far away; so far off that I even deduced that things between us had changed. I lived inside the constant terror that maybe you had changed. I see now that I must live within the knowledge that you've changed; we have grown. Neither of us could possibly posses the weapon, intent nor insensitivity to cut this at the roots, and too self absorbed to chance clipping our own. I pay you compliments, but you get your payback. If this is all some inside joke that you have let me in on, like I have discovered it to be, know that I am only close-mouthed during your monologue because I am trying to figure out the end.