Paper heart

My pain is for you by QPT You are the smell of brewing coffee in the lazy early morn, waking my senses to the anticipation of you, the aroma of your love. You’re the distant chimes of bells, subtly attracting my attention back to you. I am naturally finding myself hinged upon the idea of you and of having you. But I am bombarded by every conclusion that I and you are words that no sentences could conceive. We chose to walk different lines, hearts apart. Here in my bed, staring at the ceiling, I am flooded with the thoughts of you and the fantastical idea that I was the choice you picked. My mind is exploding from the proverbial pain crashing through me every single time I’m reminded both of the aftermath of your onslaught and the happy days that are now could-have-beens. At nights where my sobs are seeking solace from the dark and quiet walls of my room, I utter a wish. A wish for me to wake up free from your clutch, to not be reminded that I came close to being the one, but not q...