Keep it oR leave it.

He is like a grain of sand in your hands.

You afraid to lose him but if you grip too hard, he will slip away from between your fingers, and if you didnt hold him enough, the wind of life will blow them away.

So you fail to know what to do.

It was fine at the start, intense and passionate, but as you stay constant, you can feel them changing. In no time, it becomes more noticeable than mere intuition.

Their words are shorter, their touch burns, their eyes two bottomless pits.

You hope it’s a phase, but deep down, you know it’s not.

You know they’re already gone, but they still linger to clean up all the mess the both of you have ever made before they finally cut everything off, and you can only watch as they untangle whatever strings you have between the two of you.

Each passing moment is a slit across the heart, a drop of rain in the mind. You can feel the sharp edges digging through the layers of skin that are getting weaker every day, until it finally reaches the vein and all the memories of them come running out of you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop the flow. You savor all the little emotions, draining all the love and life.

Each time you open your eyes, you have a chance to walk out the door, but you would rather stand in the middle of the home, feeling all the walls closing in on you, until finally there is no more light at the end of the tunnel, and you die because of the thing you love most.

When you look at him, you don’t know whether to feel sad or glad, lonely or happy. You lose them the way you fell in love with them; slowly, and then all at once, over and over again.

Constant suicide.