You don't like a lot of things. by RebelsRiot, literature
Literature
You don't like a lot of things.
He had the nerve to say to me,
"You don't like a lot of things."
Like what?
Like not being taken seriously?
Like being hounded, having someone look for things I could have done wrong?
Like being confronted, seeing someone fighting to protect me, while another abuses his power?
Please tell me
that I don't have the right to dislike any of those things
Because I think you'd choke on those words
much more than if you were to snidely comment
about how I refuse to take someone's bullshit.
As if I'm a bitch for firing right back.
Please tell me he was right
to get nosy about who I'm dating
because it would obviously affect that man's decision making
I set the timer on my phone for thirty minutes the other night,
and fell asleep to our previous conversation's dim light.
You're the one that softens me,
turns scales into feathers, ones that won't ignite.
No one sees this side of me,
where I cannot stand, cannot take flight.
I've learned it's because of trust,
something that just feels right;
In your company, I feel safe -
if I'm broken, you'll stand for me, a dark knight.
And for someone whose every breath
is fueled by the urge to fight,
it can be a relief
to rest in your arms at night,
and know that nothing in the world
could take us both on at the same time.
I do believe in fate, destiny,
My hope was almost buried in snow,
I'd spent every night with every star,
Talking to gods I didn't know.
I laid around and counted memories
Half the night I spent in sighs,
Half in dreams of star-crossed enemies.
As I lay now to unwind, I am in a different bind.
My heart's content, first time in years
It's bursting with joy of dried up tears
My mind is troubled, it's conflicted
My joy was endless, now not so much
Because I'm far too addicted,
And I love something death can touch.
I have a liking for those songs about the bad girls -
truth is, I'm just a coiled rattlesnake.
All tastes like nectar in the land of honey,
as long as you remember that what doesn't bend, breaks.
I'm a fledgling, I know - my feathers have just kicked in,
but they're lined with glowing brimstone,
and no one sees it coming, I throw them for a spin.
I reasoned with you. I argued and I talked.
You treat me like a child, you turned into a wall.
You wanted control and it backfired, I walked.
It's sitting in your throat like you swallowed cinnamon,
like the bitter taste of drinking too much, drowning in whiskey.
I showed you signs of promise, I kept
You don't like a lot of things. by RebelsRiot, literature
Literature
You don't like a lot of things.
He had the nerve to say to me,
"You don't like a lot of things."
Like what?
Like not being taken seriously?
Like being hounded, having someone look for things I could have done wrong?
Like being confronted, seeing someone fighting to protect me, while another abuses his power?
Please tell me
that I don't have the right to dislike any of those things
Because I think you'd choke on those words
much more than if you were to snidely comment
about how I refuse to take someone's bullshit.
As if I'm a bitch for firing right back.
Please tell me he was right
to get nosy about who I'm dating
because it would obviously affect that man's decision making
I set the timer on my phone for thirty minutes the other night,
and fell asleep to our previous conversation's dim light.
You're the one that softens me,
turns scales into feathers, ones that won't ignite.
No one sees this side of me,
where I cannot stand, cannot take flight.
I've learned it's because of trust,
something that just feels right;
In your company, I feel safe -
if I'm broken, you'll stand for me, a dark knight.
And for someone whose every breath
is fueled by the urge to fight,
it can be a relief
to rest in your arms at night,
and know that nothing in the world
could take us both on at the same time.
I do believe in fate, destiny,
My hope was almost buried in snow,
I'd spent every night with every star,
Talking to gods I didn't know.
I laid around and counted memories
Half the night I spent in sighs,
Half in dreams of star-crossed enemies.
As I lay now to unwind, I am in a different bind.
My heart's content, first time in years
It's bursting with joy of dried up tears
My mind is troubled, it's conflicted
My joy was endless, now not so much
Because I'm far too addicted,
And I love something death can touch.