my love is a reverse Midas touch. one day, your eyes will stop lighting up. your sun will stop trying to break through the cloud that is my melancholy. your forgiveness will wither underneath all of these apologies; nothing can grow when it is being watered too much.
one day, you will stop getting your hands *****. you will stop searching for good intentions in the ruins of everything I have destroyed. you will stop searching for me like I'm the survivor of a shipwreck and not the shipwreck itself.
one day, you will understand why abandoned buildings are demolished when they cannot be saved.