to watch the life drain from your hazel windows made my stomach churn. to see the pain knit your brows together made my throat close up. to hear the slight quiver in your voice made my chest pour. but i wouldn't have it any other way. saplings cannot forever remain bound to wooden poles; they must grow on their own and stand tall, grazing the sky. to let you go, to leave you. or to stay and lie till the inevitable demise of what we were never meant to be. bittersweet, your lips on mine for one last time. to hold you close and to feel your fingers in my hair you taste the same as the first time i ever tasted you yet it feels so different as though the candle had burned through all its wick despite wax remnants begging to be burnt. and as i walk away, i can confirm indeed over time, i'd fallen the wrong way.