i don't think i'm mourning what we are, but what we could have been. i have seen your kindness--the tenderness that oozes out of the cracks in your facade--and i crave it. i wish it was still mine, like how i wish you were still mine. there are no wounds on my body, but it hurts everywhere. heartbreak is perhaps the most painful wound, is it not? i sit and try to fix it, fill up the cracks with cement, but your sweetness still leeches through. i build a house for my heart and i board it up. i am lonely. i want you to come hold me. i want you to crawl into bed with me and tell me i'm safe. that the ones who hurt me can't get me. that all the hurt inside me doesn't make me any less deserving of love. right now, it's you who i'm hiding from. but you know my ins and outs and all the secret passages that i don't know myself. how do you heal when the one who took away your pain ends up hurting you the most?
