I don’t deserve your affection.
I never once did, in fact.
My hands are much too belligerent
For an old, gentle soul such as yours.

Carelessness and disregard drove
A catastrophic downfall
On my behalf.

For words my heart has spoken
While omitting conscious thought,
I have carried the burden of remorse
In a tightly sealed backpack that
You filled with the sky and the ocean.

The very thought aches
Inside my bones and under my skin,
That I’ve crushed the only tower I’ve ever built
With my bare hands,
While picking apart my thoughts
In disorientation and resentment.

Though I was never able to pick apart the sky,
I have found the stars elsewhere.
I can only hope that you find yours too,
Because the ones at night tell our stories
Better than we ever could,
And those stars will always be ours.