dear my "almost" lover,
i'm sorry. your heart was too good for me from the start and i, was in no position to love you as you deserved. to love you right.
you stood there with your heart in your hands and kept insisting i'd do more, as if saying:
"here, take me. drain me of every ounce of blood i have, sink your teeth into my neck, rip me apart. listen to every time my heart beats for you at full volume and when it stops for good, don't even say thank you."
and normally, i would. but you, you're so different from everyone of the past.
instead of chaos and lust, you once reminded me more of home and rainy days. cups of coffee and eyes full of infatuation.
the feeling of safety that seems everlasting, the aftermath of a storm.
i don't want my dirty hands to taint your golden heart. it's been in enough pain.
my point is,
you deserve so, so much better.
someone with a beating heart, and hands that aren't covered in blood from past lovers.
i don't think i could ever forgive nmyself if i turned you cold.
we haven't talked in ages,
i can only pray life treats you well.
better than i ever could.
YOU ARE READING
remains of a harpoon.
Poetrythis is just a jumble of stories and my emotions that will never be unfinished. no trigger warnings. im sorry.
