Neat

You touched my hand and it felt so empty. I touched you heart and you felt thunderstruck. I never told you but there's not much I regret writing. While I loved every word I put on the notebook, you were so angry I decided to give them a body and made them a house out of paper. That we never felt happy at the same time is a lingering bad taste that people can discern. I gave you everything and you felt disheartened. You gave me nothing and I was content. Yet I can see the rear lights of your car, like trails someone left hoping for rescue. My feet won't move an inch from the pavement, is not like I want them to. You chose to ran away. I chose to save myself.