Bury all your past thoughts of me in your backyard, press down on their graves with the palm of your hand just to touch what's left of me. Water the flowers with the tears that you keep hidden, let something beautiful blossom from your broken heart. Whisper your secrets into the ground where all that I am remains, tell me the things you were too scared to, all the things you wanted to say too soon. If I ever throw out my memories maybe I'll send them back to you, in a nearby silence or a faraway dream. Maybe you'll decide to keep one, maybe it'll be the day you told me you liked the way the light hit my face, or that time you touched all the bruises left on my ego and replaced my fear with something comfortable. I still recall the way I undressed myself in front of you until I was nothing but a silhouette of naked emotion and vulnerability. I ripped the cage off my heart, I exposed parts of myself to you that I had been trying so hard to keep locked away. I didn't think you were going to hurt me. I thought I knew your hands better, the tone of your voice. So gentle in the way you used to touch me, used to tell me that everything would be okay. I know you wanted to hold on longer, that you knew I would break once I fell, and I know that you're sorry but please don't kiss me apologetically. Do you remember that afternoon when my anxiety came in high tide and I was on my knees drowning? Do you remember the way you looked past me and spoke to the sea, how you whispered softly until I could breathe again? Now all I can think about is how the last thing you said to me is still caught in my throat, and how I feel like I'm drowning again but this time everything around me feels so ******* cold.