The difference, I said.
The difference between you and me.
Is that at the end of all of this,
I will stand ankle-deep in the sopping wet mess
Of all our broken dreams
And you – you will walk free.

You’re just scared, he taunted me.
You’re scared of what we could be.
No. I’m scared of what we will be.
I’m scared of what I always become
At the end of every love.

Darlin’, he said.
Darlin’ look around you.
Look at that moon, hanging low and yellow
Just for us.
It’s the kinda moon that makes you want to fall in love.

No, that is the kind of moon that paints the world
A thousand shades of silvery wanting
And leaves it shivering and empty at daybreak
When the sun burns away the mists of it’s affection.
The sun – the end, it’s all I can count on.

You call me darlin’ like I mean something.
Like when our sun rises you won’t rise, too, from this bed
And see my ruins in the harsh daylight.
They look beautiful now,
But you’ll see them for what they are.

These ruins are not a fantasy for you to dream on
They are the walls I never wanted to build
crumbling around me
They are the dreams I never wanted to crush
in powder on the ground.

So do not love me by the moon.
Do not call me darlin’.
Do not romanticize my ruins.
Do not make me love you,
I have nothing left to give.