This love I have for you could kill me.
That's all there is to it. You run along my mind, scattering any thoughts I painfully assemble, and frolic on your merry way, only to come back & ruin me all over again. At first, I was skeptical, as to whether I should trust you or not. You see, you fraternize with my enemy, and being around you always end in pain. Alas, you win me over every time I hear you go, "Hi! I missed you." I remain wavering in handing you my full trust, but ironically the thought of you stabbing my back and snapping my neck doesn't faze me, nor does it incite an unquenchable rage within me. Rather I find it befitting—almost comforting—that your soft grasp be the one to ring out my life. I believe that even if you do betray me, as so many others have, I would nonetheless care for you. A tainted silver chalice, to the brim with poison, that I refuse to the drink from any other but.
End me. I think I would forgive you either way.
On your birthday, I gave you a kiss on the cheek.
I hadn't meant to, but I couldn't portray my immense gratitude for your birth any other way. When I die, I think I'll kiss your cheek again, to show you how grateful I am to have lived and died in the arms of the brightest light I'll ever know.
YOU ARE READING
To you who fell from Darkness' Grace
Short Story They told me I couldn't withstand 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘶𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘯, or 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘱. So I told them that if I was to burn regardless...
