texts.katyism.com

I am only an architect...
I design, carelessly and beautifully... 
I create bright and shining things 
that could only exist on paper, and in my dreams...
I am the one who sits with my philosophies
and my pencil in hand, scratching out the "perfect" world.
I designed the perfect relationship, 
I designed the perfect friendship...
but they never made it out of my head.
I am only the architect... 
and you, my friend, the engineer.
how was I supposed to know, to realize
that my perfect designs were only perfect
in a place that doesn't exist to us anymore...
and how was I supposed to know, to understand
that when we tried to build... and rebuild, and rebuild
that it wasn't your skills in construction, 
but my flaws in designing
that were keeping our lives flat on the paper.
I tried to force you into my two dimensional world... 
flip flopping between happiness and depression
endlessly erasing and resketching things into us, 
into our lives, that we both knew, but failed to say
would never last in the real world.
I had it all planned out... 
and it never got built... 
but it was no-ones fault but my own... 
after all, I am only the architect.
I flawlessly draw my sharp corners, and even levels...
but I am no-one to say that I could make them a reality.