I know I am not the first person you loved.

You are not the first person I longed for.

We have both suffered loss in which..

The blood on our blades is thick.

Dealt with more scars than we have skin.

The sacrifices we've made..

No appreciation.

Our love came unannounced

In the middle of a cold January night.

The soil under us in which our first seed was planted.

Love came to us.

We took it for granted.

But we can heal..

Together.

I will write to the salt of sweet sweat that lingers on your skin.
And I will not be afraid
of your scars..

The ones that remain within.

I will love you.

I do love you.

Your warmth grips me at last

And the days ahead of us are within our grasp.

As long as you allow it to stay.

But I will not love you when you scorn me with a thousand blades.

Your words forever branded to my skin.

Trying so hard to hold onto you while you just pull away even harder.

The rope tearing my flesh

Shredding to the bone.

I can only hold on for so long..

And I'm afraid.

Not of your scars, but afraid of mine.

Afraid of wasting my time.

Our time is on the line.

My scars pressed against your scars.

I mean you no harm.

I know I'm not the first person you've loved..

I'm hoping to be your last.

Growing old with you

Our withering scars

All in a flash.

You aren't the first person I've longed for..

If given this chance.

You will be my last.