You're Not Going to Like Me Now

You're not going to like me now.

Hollowed sockets that used to stay up passed the midnight hour stitching up pieces of your broken soul, no longer live in this body.

The twinkling lights in my eyes caused by handwritten love letters, are brighter than any sky you ever pretended to offer me.

You're not going to like me now.

Shaking fingers of self doubt that used to soak up every chocolate covered lie you ever told no longer tremble at the sound of your name.

These jagged patches of skin and breaking nails you left behind are but butter and glass to the right set of armor.

You're not going to like me now.

The black rose you planted in the darkest corner of my mind has been pulled out of the overgrowing garden of misery.

These crimson petals your venomous core never appreciated between the sheets are now valued by a valiant hero.

You're not going to like me now.

But he does.