After five hundred years,
three hundred lives,
you return just to say
you’re going under the knife,
that death might take you.
And what of it?
What’s that to me?
We’re not on the same frequency anymore.
I don’t care.
We ended.
You chose to leave,
said it broke your heart
to love me without return.
So don’t appear out of nowhere
claiming this could be
your final message.
Don’t tell me you’ll die—
just die.
I won’t feed on your drama,
won’t waste my energy
keeping alive what doesn’t exist.
You once promised
in future lives
you’d find me again,
that we’d live our love at last.
Please—don’t.
Love yourself.
Prioritize yourself.
Forget me.
I already forgot you.
Oct 15, 2025
Oct 15, 2025 at 8:04 PM UTC
After five hundred years,
three hundred lives,
you return just to say
you’re going under the knife,
that death might take you.
And what of it?
What’s that to me?
We’re not on the same frequency anymore.
I don’t care.
We ended.
You chose to leave,
said it broke your heart
to love me without return.
So don’t appear out of nowhere
claiming this could be
your final message.
Don’t tell me you’ll die—
just die.
I won’t feed on your drama,
won’t waste my energy
keeping alive what doesn’t exist.
You once promised
in future lives
you’d find me again,
that we’d live our love at last.
Please—don’t.
Love yourself.
Prioritize yourself.
Forget me.
I already forgot you.
