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]."