I told my heart to hate you. But the truth is. I wanted you so badly that I am still sore about it.

You embraced me in your sweet suffocation or lack of, that my pride could not ingest. I was gasping the moment you left and still am. I thought you should know. You flutter and left me stripped and delicate for you.

It was the first time I felt the initial human turmoil of regret and hurt; the whole impingement of it was excruciating. I would be happier if the world called me crazy. At least I would have all the right and protection to do wrong and be wrong. It will be perfectly lucid to be crazy.

Everyone prefers someone independent so that they can shake off their responsibility. We have become irresponsible in our actions so that things will be easier for us to walk away and not follow through.

Things are simple. It wasn't wrong to be simple but everyone else just isn't.

I cannot keep you. Therefore I am feeling the initial stages of genuine damage in small, insignificant and brutal dosage.

Without frames. You became one.

Hold me and break me again.