when he whispers,“goodnight
i love you.”
do not feel blinded.
do not admit that your heart skips beats
to the sound of his voice,
do not believe him.
do not believe.
do not.

when your veins run dry
and your tears smear jet black, 15 dollar maybelline down your cheeks
do not utter a word.
do not speak.
do not tell him that his existence is the reason you smile to yourself during breakfast, lunch and dinner…
that she will never know him the way you do.
do not.

you will feel tempted,
your heart will yearn to yawn open,
honestly will flood your lungs and you will
gasp to tell him that it’s him
him,
him.
it has always been him,
but darling,
do not waste breath on those that still have not learned what if means to give back.

your love is fire,
your love is sunlight buried under seasons of storm,
over oceans,
and flowers,
and blushing cheeks.
it tempers in the pain,
it radiates with passion.
it burns like a thousand suns.

when he touches your hand,
he will hold you to his chest and tell you you’re warm,
but darling don’t forget,
that he would rather live in a never-ending winter.