A Love Letter

I am like a piece of broken glass.
I want someone to pick me up,
But not you.
The moment you get too close,
The moment you wrap your calloused fingers
Around my sharp edges,
Grasping them like you were meant to,
You’ll end up bleeding.
And Honey,
Hurting you is something
I’d never want to do.
What I want is to lock you in a never-ending embrace,
And let all my warmth seep into you,
From my body, into yours.
Oh Honey,
If only I was warm.
But I am like a sheet of ice,
That burns you worse than fire does.


If I were a blank notebook,
I’d let you write in it—
Filling my pages with your words
In the ink of your favourite colour,
But I am not.
I am the notebook
That numerous people have tried to write in,
But have managed to leave only ink spots—
Huge, blank ink spots that cover all the white,
And I do not want the same blackness
To cover your fingers,
And soul.


If I could,
I would make you my destiny.
But Honey,
My destiny is to burn out like a dying star,
Swallowing everything around it.


So Honey,
This is a love letter I am writing to you,
Asking you to stay away from me,
To never look at me like you sometimes do,
To never try to mend me.
A love letter,
Asking you to stop loving me.


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