All these things aren't making me stronger.
They only make me wish harder that I'd never been.
Won't watch another tear fall with no one to catch it.
Laughing at me cause it knows I asked for it.
That I knew I could've stayed to my aloneness no more hurt for it,
but I chose to feel.
Feel someting even if it meant.
That I actually thought for one minute I could feel anything except.
That any love that could survive this poison blood could be any less poison than it.
It's not the aching that I mind so much.
Something so constant.
You become accustomed.
It's the hollow.
That for a moment you filled up.
It's the years ahead.
So many still yet.
Alone.
No memory to draw on for inspiration that doesn't have blood on its hands.
No love to reflect upon when tomorrow offers no more.
No love to reflect upon that doesn't underscore how alone I've always been.
And will be evermore.
Because I know you'll be fine.
That you had everything before you ever came to me.
That I was the one who never had.
You've got so much.
So much I've always wanted.
If I didn't love you I might hate you for that.
I don't have to be sad for you.
Long as I leave you be,
there won't ever be a reason.
I can stand the pain of my own sorrow,
but I couldn't stand to know that I had hurt you.
It's not the aching.
It's not the breaking.
That's become so mundane.
It's just being that close and having to let go.
It's just knowing it's not something I can ever be.