maine

e i g h t e e n

maine, 

 my heart is not a toy that you can

drag along behind you, pulling it from a string,

letting it get battered and bruised and everything

inbetween. it was a gift i gave to you, but by the

looks of it, you didn't like it very much. i want to let go

and love someone else, love verity. and i can. i can,

and maybe if i tell myself that enough times, i'll be able to.

i've even told verity this, for christ's sake. she understands,

she didn't get mad, she got it. because her heart, too, has been

tattered and torn, after being pulled along by a string.

you wore out my heart, but maybe she can revive it.

- will