Your Love is my End.
Your Love is my End.  unrequitedlove stories
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kayle657
kayle657 Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
Who are you? From birth I've known myself to be charming, smooth, so composed that Beethoven would blush. With your smile, you strip away all that I knew was my identity. I stutter , I fumble for the words that were so entwined with my tongue it was my second nature.

Your Love is my End.

Who are you? From birth I've known myself to be charming, smooth, so composed that Beethoven would blush.

With your smile, you strip away all that I knew was my identity. I stutter , I fumble for the words that were so entwined with my tongue it was my second nature.

You strip away my once impenetrable armour with a gentle touch as if it were a feather.

Feathers that you make flutter from within me.. something that's sweet I feel as if it's a burden.

What is this love that you've given me? Why does change me into a person I scorn. My heart does not speak unless it hears your voice. My being cannot rest until I know that you're okay.

I want you. All of you. But my heart wants you more than I do. You've hurt me too many times for me to open my doors again.

Until it hits me that they were never closed to begin with. I sometimes wonder if in my heart there's a place that only you could occupy.....

or is it that the slot is empty because you took something that I could never regain. My pride. The pride to know I can kiss you away into dreams I'll never remember.

The pride that protects me from the idea that maybe I can never stop loving you but at the same time I cannot exist in your world without destroying my being in mine.

Self conflicted by the things that I want and the things that only you could give me .... how little they were.

Our hearts beat in sync that sounds a Symphony that we can never hold onto, we can just feel. Because that's all there is. Feelings.

Raw unadulterated emotions seeking solace in every cracked fraction of my heart.

I asked you. What made you so different from everyone else? Your blood is red, but it felt gold. Days go buy , even years and the petals from your rose haven't yet start to wilt.

The spell seems to be working both ways for your tears burn the pillow. But alas you were given the strength to cry. Your tears dry on their own.

What do you say to the man who is so broken that even his eyes fail to satisfy the screams for a warm and slowly trickled relief.

A powerful love carries an equal and matched weakness.

Your love will be my end. So before you break me further, let me take what bits of my heart I have left and start afresh. Not a new love, but a new contention.

You will always have my love, but I could never accept yours without admitting defeat. I'd rather carry this hole with every breath, than to risk losing the only thing I have left. Myself.

The End.

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