I'm sorry I, consumed by the demons in my head in the wee morning, ripped your chest open, and made you think that I have intentionally exhibited your fondest secrets, instances and moments, conversations and vivid pictures. This is hardly my goal. I had no idea at all but I am just as, if not, more apologetic.

I'm sorry I convinced you that you were wrong; that I weren't all that special after all and therefore there is no need to keep me close. Funny, how I was doing all that I could to not make you feel that way. I want you to still talk to me, even if it's to end it and I can move on with a good weep in the cubicle and some wall-punching.

Discard of them, the letters I have hand-written, even if they contained nothing but my truest, most foolish thoughts
Throw them away before they remind you how we should have never started this but did
Throw them away before they do nothing but hurt and infuriate you
I wouldn't trade you for the world but the words I have so involuntarily pour forth on paper are of no worth now.
I'm not turning my words into weapons
I'm not looking to steal from you
I'm not looking to break rules or cross lines
I just needed an outlet because the bad feelings were seeping in, viscous like coagulated blood or fuel oil and they are drowning me and I can't breathe
I'm sorry I know no other way to deal with me

I might have to try harder than I already am
to not still fall for you and everything that you are
But I imagine what I can do, is to stop hurting you.This will be my last post. I will keep my word. I will stop hurting you.
And whoever has been reading this crap, thank you and goodbye.

I'm quite done here now.












I love you.