I hate getting attached. Especially knowing how quickly I start to love. The potential was all there. A perfect match. Match like a pair. Like a couple. Match like striking a fire. The fire that started to burn in my belly for you. Every time I saw your face, my own lit up like said fire. There's not a lot of things I regret because I believe everything happens for a reason, but I got too close, too fast and that's my own fault. You may underestimate how I felt and how I could've felt if it was more, but you got shit to figure out and so do I. So farewell 'till then. icu later.
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Spilled Milk
PoetryA collection of poems and diary entries from a brilliant yet troubled mind and a passionately pumping & bleeding, hurting & healing heart.
