• thegreymetaphor 27w

    Perhaps, the only thought
    that elicits a smirk
    as I stare at the empty walls
    is the fact that
    even after everything
    you couldn't break my heart.
    I had already been
    walking the tightropes,
    more or less.
    Was ready to let go
    of the slippery parapet
    when you came along and
    caught onto my hand.
    Your pleading eyes
    were somehow
    more appealing than the dive
    behind me that was
    meant to be my escape.
    In that moment,
    as I was dangling by the only thread
    of your hand holding mine,
    there was a relief
    beginning to surge through me.
    There was a part of me
    so high on your touch
    that it wanted to keep breathing.
    Was I doubtful
    of my will to end it all?
    I do not know.
    But regardless of my denial,
    the choice between
    living for you and dying for myself
    had been made.
    And the calm that it came with
    was so utterly consuming
    that I didn't realise
    when you let go.
    It took me a while to register that
    the string had broken
    leaving me at the mercy of freefall
    and before I could question
    the sudden emptiness
    in my hands, it was benumbed.
    The impact of the fall
    braced me before I could fall apart.
    I hit the ground
    before you could break my heart.



    The line on the display is from the song Arcade by Duncan Laurence.

    If you can't already tell,
    this is toxic romanticism at it's best. ��

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    Loving you was a losing game.