I said it out loud for the first time
when I was lying on my bedroom door. You
were far away and breaking my heart.
I was crying. I have always written poetry,
you know that
but suddenly they all became of you
and I threw my love and my heartbreak into
metaphors and weaved them into
tight little sentences.
I’m not asking for it back because
it is so much to ask of someone, and I
can’t ask you to cry yourself
to sleep like I have done or expect you to
know what colours my eyes are
made up of or to build your home in
me, I know I am fragile
and if I was earth I would be hiding a
sinkhole, I don’t trust myself with your heart
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