You were supposed to make me feel like I lived in the clouds,
but I'm afraid of heights.
They told me that one day you'd sweep me off my feet,
I like my feet to stay on the ground
That one day someone would wrap their arms around me tight and never let go,
They told me your kiss would make me feel like home,
I've lived in 12 different "homes"
And when I first saw your face and I wasn't afraid to be lifted off the ground, I held onto the clouds and I thought I had found my permanent home. When I was around you, I was me.
I was home.
But, my home was built on a crumbling foundation duct taped together by "I’m sorry" and "It won't happen again." My house was constructed of belief and hope. Those don't make for strong walls. One day I came home and the lot was empty. And all I was left with was a hole in the ground and a hole in my heart.
Losing your kiss was like withdrawal. It was pain and also not feeling at all. Some days I'd cry and some I'd just breathe. Nothing more than just breathe. I was finally able to see what I had become. I was this makeup of what I thought you wanted me to be. I wasn't me.
I looked like I had fallen out of the sky, like the clouds could no longer support me and you weren't there to catch me when I fell. Blankets were my parachute but their cradling corners couldn't replace how warm I felt in your arms.
You were supposed to love me forever no matter what.