Mourn

I have these elaborate rituals for mourning relationships. I think I'm too fond of feeling penitent. A song from high school spiels through my head as I look at your picture. "Your sins into me, oh my beautiful one, your sins into me." A Fire Inside. If I had a way to transport you back to the beginning, to take my treadmarks off of your heart, to restore you, I would. I never liked hurting because someone else was broken, why should you hurt because I am? Oh, my beautiful one...