i loved you but you were preoccupied. i refuse to hear you beyond the noise despite the fact that your voice is still my home. now you’re in a pool of blood and i step back after blinking twice. mistakes are meant to be learned, and we both know this isn’t one. we’re both tired. but we never learn.

the world likes to shatter us often just to see us both crawl back into a desperate whole from the million pieces we have then and now become.

―but you were far,

and warm,

and beautiful,

and fading,

and i watched as you did.