I could feel him slipping away, but he didn't know where he was going. In a harbor so deep, his heart fell asleep in the sand. I thought I could never know love again, but he pulled out the stitches and pitched a tent inside.
To be near someone that couldn't get enough of me; it seemed highly unlikely. How can I accept love when I hate every stupid word that comes out of my stupid mouth? When I regret more than I can let go... When I can see myself doing the right thing, but not.
I'm spoiled by neglect and impossibly direct. Taking the difficult road and tensely moving forward though I can't bear the load. I have loved him more than I thought I was able. I have no idea what happens next, I hope that I am capable of living through this without checking myself into a tomb. Happier than anyone can believe and sadder than a bottom feeder without a womb.
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