why couldn’t i have done less heart breaking and been the one who was broken?
i think it would have prepared me more for right now.
i just wish i could be somebody’s, anybody’s, first.
even their first [big] mistake?
i wish everything didn’t hurt so much.
even if it meant you wouldn’t feel anything at all?
i wish i could open myself up and let it all pour from me…
red ribbons wrapped around your arms wouldn’t go with all of your clothes, darling.
i wrote you a letter for every single day.
for every single kiss.
every single tear.
i never gave them to you.
they are buried where they should be…
where they should have been the whole time.
be thankful your eyes were the only ones to fall on those pages.
i just wish you could understand. but you never will.
don’t you dare wish hurt on others just because you’re hurting yourself.
and all the moonlit kisses, all the brushing of hands, all of the goodnight dreams, and shared sheets, and pink roses…
are someone else’s too.
and i will die a little inside, every single time i think of you.