Unspoken

There are so many things that I didn’t tell you.

Important things; Things that, perhaps, would have changed the ending to our story.

Now they fester in my throat, clawing, scratching.

They want out and they want it bad.

But, it is futile.

I will never let them out, for to let them out would be to betray the small part of me, the only part of me, that I have managed to protect.

I cannot give you this piece.

Even if that means denying myself the closure that I so desperately need.

So I will content myself with the memory of your warmth and the way your body felt against mine.

These words will remain unspoken, and it is perhaps for the best.

For we should not be.

Our union was not meant to last, and in the end you probably deserve better than me.

Someone young, carefree and confident.

Someone who has not been broken down so many times she no longer remembers who she was before the scars.

Someone who knows what it means to be happy.

Not someone who holds on to the memory of it.

And I — I deserve someone who will see the whole truth of me.

Who will see the scars, and kiss them.

Who will watch me break down and make mistakes and hold me afterwards.

I deserve someone who will stay.

Not someone who will ignore me.

I deserve someone who sees me as magnificent, scars and all.

And yet…I want you still.

You were a new hope — A dream I should’ve known better than to chase.

But I did, and for a moment we burned brightly together.

I will content myself with that.