“I spent a lifetime building shrine to things that can’t love me back. (music, poetry, you)”

I’m sorry for being this hard to love.

I know you will take the last of me and I will love you anyway.

I am a child of autumn: At home amongst things that only know of falling.

I knew I loved you before I understood what that meant.

All I really know is whatever the cost you’re worth it.

My body has always been a stranger. And it aches in a language I don’t understand.

And again I wake up hoping today is the day I don’t miss you.

I don’t know how else to say it. I will love you for the rest of my life.

Of all the people I’ve been the man you loved is the only one I miss.

Maybe letting go isn’t all that different to loving you.

I swear my bones can feel it whenever you speak my name.

What a gentle curse: to still want you after all we’ve been.

She spoke with so much hope, the future dancing on her lips like a flame.

Her smile is an open flame and I have a paper heart.

It was always you who felt like water when my whole body was a flame.

Just because the pain is comfortable doesn’t mean you have to wear it.

This heart. It’s broke. I don’t want it anymore.

I have so much love to give even with these daggers still stuck in my heart.

I felt it. I heard the snap of my heart tearing in half. It wasn’t a messy, dirty rip like I’d expected, but a smooth, clean line that knew just where to break to hurt me the most.

I thought time would heal my broken heart, but its been forever since I fell in love and I’m scared that you took pieces of me that can’t be replaced.

The autumn breeze carves out an ache in your memory.

If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, then thank Him for breaking your heart.

I know when you ache because I’ve been deep inside every part of you.

How beautiful it is to find a broken heart, to hold it in your hands and give it a place to stay, without fetching a needle and thread.