look back on the rubble excavate every jagged shard and splinter on my heart; ache with me your wounded finger and find me in the hurt.
see you here.
gently pluck fragile shrapnel from the heap of debris; i am below here in the rubble of a you and me.
yet do not be so gentle with these fragile shrapnel because even to bits i am enamored; crush the fractals between your curious fingers, pain me once more again until the pieces are dust that weathers to the wind, let the breeze know of my mourning.
and then maybe you are needless now to dig me from the sand i am interred deep; after all, i found comfort here, and sound sleep.
but one thing to remember, love, when you shovel me out my grave look me in the eye, burier, you are forgave.
see you again.
they say i'll only get hurt if i don't let you go. i say i'd rather get hurt endless than forget the home of my soul.