A Convenient Alibi

Love is love is love is love

I write only when I am in my deepest pit, for the black of my pen’s ink is the only thing that can match the darkness in my heart

The only person who can heal me is the one cutting my wounds

I don’t believe in “over.” I believe in sadness, and in loss, and in change. But nothing is ever over. It’s just not how it used to be.

She knew an ultimatum would end it, taken as a threat rather than a plea. But something needed to change, some action needed to be taken, and if her love wasn’t worthy of that effort than an ultimatum there would be.

In each lost whisper was a cry for help, left only to be answered by the silence between the winds

Where she saw darkness, he saw stars

No matter how much she had, she always wanted more. And that was what ended her