Your lips made of broken glass

Leave me bleeding

As I try to utter the hushed words

'I love you'

dear self,

if it ever gets too hard, i want you to cry. cry so hard that your tears will form seas. cry so hard that your wails will echo throughout the mountains. cry, not because you want to be heard but because you want to hear yourself. stop only when you feel empty enough. empty enough that when you look at the mirror, you no longer recognize the face blankly staring back at you. then wipe away the tears, smile and tell yourself, "i was once a painting that has been washed anew. i was painted in dark colors but those no longer matter because from now on, i will be colored in the brightest of the bright."

They say it's never too late
But for me,
Im way too late
You can't here me now
No matter how loud I say these three word
I lost my last chance
All i can do now
Is to cry infront of your grave
Feeling the pain alone

so much lead up
to those three simple words

then they become common
repeated over
and
over
only to become



meaningless