I fucking wish I could unlove you. Save us both the headache, heartache, some other kind of ache with an h sounding precursor. Right now I’d trade almost anything in the world for a numb heart.
But not you.
I wouldn’t trade it for you.
….because I love you and I guess that’s where the problem is born.
You had sewn the seed of love into my heart where maybe you never intended it to grow and look, it has blossomed. My veins they run with blood I’d willingly sacrifice if it meant you lived. Or loved. Or something. My muscles ache for the hands of you. Only you can sate this parched woman’s thirst.
Oh, I’m withering.
Just blacken me! Burn me, sketch a self portrait with the char of me. Throw my ashes wherever the fuck you want because it doesn’t really matter in the end. Does it?
I’m being dramatic, I know. But look, it makes for the perfect literature to drown in over your morning coffee.
Does it frighten you that perhaps without you as my muse I might not write? Does it frighten you that I’ve fallen for you so?
to know how you could break me?
I bet it doesn’t. I bet you don’t think twice. Sometimes. Occasionally. I bet I’m wrong, even with my supremely in tune guessing skills.
I guessed you’d break my heart. I have always known. Does it frighten you that it doesn’t frighten me? Does it frighten you to know that until I know that you know exactly how this ends I won’t give in?
It’s all like a Nique said that Max said that Troy said to tell Rob that Beau said because Chris said something about Percy…. and I’m just a lost little bird begging for it all to be quiet because I don’t think Rob knows anything about this situation and I c a n ‘ t k e e p u p . . . .
I can hardly persuade my brain to work in time with my body or my heart to work pragmatically.
I’ll never fucking learn