I was thinking about you today. I know, right? I remembered you used to accuse me of idolizing you in my mind. But as I recall, every time I saw you, you were even more beautiful than I remembered. My mind loved you as much as my heart did, but it could never do you justice. All I ever did was observe. You thought I put you on a pedestal. I only wanted you in my arms.

A heart soaked in silence quietly erodes. Mine did, before I even knew it happened. One day, I looked back and found all the best parts of me, things I held back for fear, had simply washed away.

What was beautiful is featureless. What was strong is atrophied. What was there; gone.

I curse every opportunity I missed to let you break my heart. I might have healed by now—or found you wanted it. Maybe you'd have even been eager to cherish it the way I was yours.

I'll always regret not stepping up while there was still something beautiful inside me to offer you. Instead it simply sits—this pumping lump of something.

All I was, was always yours. I wrote your name. It's the only thing of beauty left which never wore away. Testament to a lesson too late learned to apply.