There’s this ******* first shift and she’s ******* magic and won’t be mine because I’m trouble and I break ****, and she’s fragile and lovely.

She tells me she’s unstable and damaged and I could cry every night if I wasn’t so convinced I can get over this.

I half *** so much but I obey my emotions.

When she gave me her number I sang, “what if?”

When she asked if I was in an open relationship I thought, “I wish.”

When I was single, she came over and I whispered, “I just want this.”

However, I try to play it cool and send love subtly, but I’m a ******* and a *** and a loser and I can’t drown my sorrows in anything so they keep me up at night.

She came into my life like a hurricane and I was swept off my feet, but I made the conscious decision to be loving to her. I cut a hole out exactly her size and she kissed me on the lips and said no.

She got diagnosed with cancer again and decided to quit fighting and I want to kiss every inch of her and make her feel like she was always deserving of the best love someone could give.

I want to kiss every part of her skin and make her better again because she is the light of any room she’s in.

I want to kiss her, but I’m ***** from throwing myself in the gutter,

from trying to **** strangers,

from singing sad songs,

from losing more sleep every night,

from hurting people I love

and

hurting myself to hurt them more.


There’s this ******* first shift and she’s absolute magic and I loved her too soon.


She’s fading from the inside, out,

while I rot from the outside, in.