How lucky are you to have two hearts in your possession
Yours and Mine
While my chest is hollow and echoes every step I take
Reminding me of the horrendous thoughts I have
I couldn't say "it's your loss, you lost someone who loves you and cares for you unconditionally"
While I am left with broken pieces of myself I don't even recognize
I know what I lost exactly and I'll always want it back
It feels more like a curse than a blessing to have a caring heart full of love
And a mind set on undying hope for the impossible

I cried for you last night again,
...and swore it'd be the last
Then as I slept I dreamt of you,
...and tears fell twice as fast

If you can see a future without me and that doesn't, like, break your heart, then we aren't doing what I thought we were doing here

Most men run like clockwork.
Each piece is relevant to the system.
Alas, I am different.
I am a clock, like all other men,
But I am filled with broken parts:
Broken gears, broken hands,
And broken everything else.
I can no longer move forward in time
For my hands are stuck
Cursed to tell and retell one minute.

Why would the clockmaker
Turn me into a monstrosity?
Is this a punishment for my sins
Or is it a challenge I cannot win?
Am I broken to start with
Or is this a cruel joke?
I wish not to retell the same time
Because it is a time that haunts me.
A time that has brought me grief.
Fix me, so I may not be stuck.

Dear girl,
I know
how much you crave for happiness

But please,

Never
(ever)
mistake comfort for bliss.

But mostly, I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.