maybe, never

the thought of owning the bruises in your eyes.

the cracks of your broken heart

through the unspoken words

of promises,

of things i should be,

but can’t bear to be

in your life right now,

maybe never.

is simply too much.

these thoughts cuts deep.

guilt riddles me

like a hunger you dare me to feed.

the thought of hearing your voice

in my mind’s eye

before i go to sleep

pleading with me ‘to try one more time’

to be things i can’t be

and would probably never bear to be

in your life right now,

maybe never.

i am not hate.

nor do i respond to holding

broken hearts

in the bosom

of my happiness.

i laugh

because

tears would just be too obvious.

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