I have made you immortal
I have traced my dreams, your body, and your soul writing about you
I wish I could kill you, but I, like a god, only gave you eternal life.
Maybe these pages will remain closed. Maybe nobody will ever read your name or the things you did to this heart. But they will not be erased.
There will not be time or catastrophe that can erase your fingerprints of my skin, the ink in these pages, the ache in this bones (they only speak in the syllables of your name)
There will always be proof that I loved you, and that wasn't enough.
There will always be evidence of your power over me. Of how I would've done anything to make you love me, or even just make me feel not so unlovable.
Not so monstruos, not so unhuman. A little bit worthy of you
