We were never going to work
Trying to stitch the others wounds with sweet words
When we had run out of thread to fix ourselves
Your words were wax wings that brought me closer to the sun
I should not have to remind you
Of how that story ended.
You are the slippery road on a stormy night,
And I am an accident just waiting to happen.
In my very own Pandora’s box I cherish what will never be
The endless hope
For a soft landing
For I have a fear of falling.