I let you in my home for a reason.
A home I let few in I may add for perpetual flair.
I seen the torn heart on your sleeve.
Dark sullen eyes holding stories that would make the hair stand up on most people.

Felt the love you possess having been corrupted from every last tale of people leaving you behind when all promises of forever lingered.
You feeling empty.
I understanding what its like in the depravity of my own darkness.
I love you for the person you were, and the person you are capable of becoming.
So I sit with you, under no pretense but to help you heal.

I take Ive been here before with someone who's inconceivably broke.
What a ****** up notion to refer to someone as incomplete as if everyone of us is perfect at some point.
I wont wallow in the toxic grave people submerse themselves into anymore.
I almost drowned just in case you were wondering.

So I wait with my arms open, mind flexed and heart pumping. For you to be happy with who you are and to heal to a point where you love yourself as much I love you.
My home incomparably full waiting. Home is where the heart is, I have a spot for you when your ready.

I am on page 123.
of the story of our lives
fingers linger on the pages
stuck
glued to something
an unimaginable conundrum
at a cross roads of where I left you last
last place you envisioned us
almost free
just turn the page
beautiful aren't we?
even in our destruction
smell of fires never ceasing to take me away
to the only place I felt safe
just turn the page please
when you made the very concept of a dream void
one place that we would escape together.
yet I yearn to learn what happens next
like any story
we just cant keep rereading the same chapter
despite how enthralling it plays
how much I want to replay your face
as if I could ever forget your face
just turn the ******* page
one last time.