It’s funny, really,

How when it’s late at night, and all I can think about is you.

About the nights we’ve spent talking about endless nothing.

About the things you whispered to me at my lowest.

About the way you made me feel love.

How you made me feel like me again.

I guess it’s my own fault, really.

I let my guard down,

I let you in,

I let you stay,

I let you take up every part of my thoughts.

It’s funny how love

can feel like safety

until it doesn’t.

It’s all my fault, really.

I let you say all these sweet nothings to me in the still night,

That made me believe,

I was the best thing—

that you’d ever seen.

Made me feel—

Loved.

Wanted.

Understood.

It’s funny, really.

How I hurt myself.

By letting myself fall in love with you