A couple years have passed since I crumbled Us,
Ripping Me from You with no whisper of warning.
A second love grows as life's pendulum circles, and
Eerily familiar memories caution me from darting
Into the same traps that I ensnared you with slowly.
My nose smells the fear of repeating old mistakes.
In this similar space, but different place and time,
My hands recoil from how I soiled your fresh heart,
And my tongue tastes the sour reality of my crime,
Finding you at fault in my final moment of failure.
I drowned in the truth of how deeply you loved me,
And, it should have been returned with my eyes'
Gaze a little less harsh when I splintered apart We.
And you never deserved to be flooded in the proof
Of how I was not the saint you painted and framed.
My dear, first Love, if you are reading this, I'm sorry.
*"For now, know that I love[d] you and wish you the best.
I'm not sure when the pendulum will stop or where it
Will land in the long term, [for] still I am apparently no
Closer to understanding any [more] about love [than you]."*