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last time.

and this time.

i don’t care much about much. but you have hearts on strings. and they are all screaming tonight.

i think you know how much it hurts. but i think you knew all along. i think the moment it got suggested, you threw the idea out of the window. i think you waited for a reason to say no. because, with us, you get a choice. and you won’t let us push you into any decision. because you don’t have to do anything we ask. because we have no authority over you.

do you love it? can you feel the power surging through your veins? do you love how we cry over the moments we won’t have this time?

you know what i bet you’ll say about this? i bet you’ll say i have a bad attitude and that i deserve your presence even less now because of it. well, i never expected you to come anyway. because you rarely do.

i’m sitting here. watching the clock. watching the calendar. my home picked up and moved to another state. then it moved again. i need it to pack up one last time and come to see me. come hold my hand while i am in pain from my wisdom teeth. i miss you. dear wyatts, come to greenville.

moving through the warp of time. worm holes of desire burn up as our hearts do. until, one day you wake up, and you say, “fuck. i guess i’ll burn our memories then”. yeah. pretty much.