Regrets.

I watched helplessly as the gush of emotions that once drowned us slowly ebb and then stop; the sunset of our moments slowly casting shadows on the ground we’ve set foot on.

I was real. I certainly felt like I was.

But you reduced me to nothing but a dream — one you’d happily come to bed with each night, only to wake up from without much thought in the first light of morning.

I will never take human form in your eyes. I am a balled up mess of dreams and tears and regrets.

Let you.

Sometimes my lungs forget how to breathe

and my heart forgets how to count beats

and my brain keeps searching for meaning behind eyes that evade reason.

I am one messed up body,

but you hold me still.

Your hands clamoring for sharp edges,

but are met with soft curves instead.

My soul is beside itself.

It does not know why you do it —

why you say one thing, and mean the other;

why you say, “we can’t do this anymore”,

but call me still.

Baby, I am running out of air.

You’ve invaded my precious space,

but I let you.

Forget about future regrets,

forget about the imminent heartbreak…

you are my now.

And I will let you.

Freckles and melancholy.

Excuse me, Mr. Gentleman on the right.

Yes, you with the slits for eyes.

How is it possible that you still see me?

It has been brought to my attention that you don’t love me,

not because you can’t,

but because you won’t.

Because everything moves too fast

and you’re slowly losing your hold.

Excuse me, Sir Debbie Downer.

Yes, you with the freckles on his nose.

How could we talk for hours

and not predict each other’s next move?

I’ve noticed that this is starting to get old,

not because we let it,

but because we’ve been walking in circles.

Because we know this is going nowhere,

but neither of us want to let go.

Excuse me, Mr. Melancholy.

Yes, you who wears his loneliness so well.

How can you not make room for me in that bottomless pit you call a heart?

I’ve been thinking about forgetting you,

not because I want to,

but because it’ll only be a matter of time.

Because you’re not going to think twice

if it was me on the other end.