See you sometime soon.

Knowing that the rain

kisses your skin more than I do,

knowing the sun

has reached more of you than I will.

Feeling your skin on mine,

but not feeling nearly enough;

time is irrelevant when I’m with you,

but time seems like the only relevance

you’ll ever have with me.

I could be overthinking.

But what is the overthinker to the haunted if not a burden? 

“I wish you really knew me”

No I don't.

Setting up this format,

Trying to tell you how I feel,

Shaking at the thought of you

Finally figuring out what all these words

Really mean.

“I never wanted to be your angel, your good boy."

I did and-

I still do.

I want to be everything to you. 

"You're an attention seeker."

I never claimed not to be;

I never claimed to be clean,

I never told you I was good.

"But everyone thinks like that."
 

But, like everyone,

You lied to yourself,

saw what you wanted.

Heard the screams,

assumed I cried wolf.

I warned you.

You brushed it off as nothing.

“You’re good,”

“everyone likes you.”

I am not

and no one truly does.