When I leave,
there will be no warnings.
There will be no calm before the storm.
Had you truly known me,
you would have known that I have always
remained true to my chaos.
It has always been silent.
And someday when I am gone,
in the dead of the night,
dreams of me will haunt you,
and you will lay awake,
wondering where I went
or if I will ever return,
and that will be your undoing.
I will give you no answers, nor peace,
the same way I gave you my heart
and had to take it back in pieces.
Pride is such a terrible thing.