These Empty Cracks

I speak in subtleties
Leaving pinpricks on his arms and bite marks on his lips
The kind that bleed and throb indiscreetly
He does not yet know what they mean
I like to keep the world an arms length away
I have learned too many lessons by slapping my own self in the face to think that he can save me
He cannot save me
I'm dressed in secrets and a bent heart feeling overwhelmed and incomplete
I'm too young for this much evil
I'm too young to have already aged my soul a thousand years past recovery

He smiles and like a mirror I try to shift and twist my lips into a curve
Poorly matching his own
I've just gown tired of being alone
But I'm tired of looking at him and trying to see home

He is a window left open letting the heat out
It's freezing outside and I just want to be warm
I keep imagining his feet to be welcome mats
And his hands to be doors
That open when I touch them
His lips could be the food left on the table
But I have let them go cold
And I have abandoned his floors
Never unpacking my boxes marked 'Adventures' or the treasures I have yet to explain to him

I live in chimneys awaiting the heat of my errors to light beneath me
He keeps collecting kindling
Trying to keep me warm
But I am only wanting to choke on the acrid smoke of first attempts and failed tries
Letting him hold me close at first
Then only wanting to be outside

I crave wholeness but I empty myself into others
When will I forget my name?
Or have I forgotten everything that once made me sane?
I abandon what is safe
And abhor the lying reflection on my face
What makes him think I could love anyone for long?

I am a time turner
Flipped over
Cracked
And running