Just like all those flowers I used to bring to you.
I want to bring flowers to celebrate you. I don't want to bring them to mourn you.
Every day I see the light in your eyes fading just a bit more.
I see the woman I fell in love with.
She's in pain.
But I still see her.
I still smell her hair like it used to smell before.
I still see the curves that caressed me and took me into their warm embrace
I still see the same tattoos I've spent hours admiring at.
I still hear the same familiar voice.
I still see the woman I'm in love with.
But every day,
A tiny piece of her falls off.
I see her die more and more inside.
And every night, I shake and shiver and gasp for air or a break, a sign, anything.
I'm becoming smaller.
My voice is getting quieter and quieter.
And you're still breaking apart at the seams.
I see your heart unwinding into the beautiful string of emotion that captivated me. But unlike before,
It is stained. It is bitter and dry. It's sharp at the edges.
But no matter the appareance it may take, or how rigid or brittle it becomes,
I will treasure it forever.