SWAN SONG; tom riddle

𝖝𝖛𝖎𝖎

what are you so fucking afraid of?

in what universe would someone else's love be such a burden to a boy who so desperately needs it?

i gave you everything that was left of myself to you. the scraps that haven't been reduced to nothing by this cruel world was yours. i timidly offered you my bruised heart and the rest of myself for you to accept and treasure.

and accept you did. but treasure you did not.

with those beautiful — beautiful angelic hands, you treaded carefully, briefly using the upmost care while handling me.

then you snapped. and everyone saw it coming.

everyone but me.

with the butt of your cigarette, you spread the discarded cinders over me, watching with curious eyes as i caught fire and burned before you. you said my soul was the fruit on which wicked men feast upon and for the rest of my life, you were indeed well fed.

why?

i was already dead inside, tom, all i wanted was you. i never asked for your heart in return, just the promise you wouldn't break mine.

and you did.

and like the fool i was, i expected you to return it to me when you were finished.

because a tarnished heart is better than no heart at all.

but you didn't.

and from that moment to my death, and even after that, i remained a heartless vessel of blood and flesh, pleading and begging, not for the organ my body so desperately required, but for the one who held it to return to me.

because i could live without a heart, tom. you've done it for years haven't you?

the predicament i've found myself in countless times is that i could never live without you. and i wouldn't dare try to.

yours,
florizel