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.