So its always been true. ‘Too much of anything is dangerous, difficult; heart breaking even’. And I only believe it now, when I bleed sadness and ineffable grief from loving you more than you deserved. Maybe I watered our flowers too much, that’s why there is nothing but dried leaves of conversations left between us. Maybe my love caged you in for too long, that’s why you used hate to break free. Maybe I loved you too much, and that’s why you don’t anymore.
Too much, too much, too much.
I gave you the sun when you didn’t even deserve the tiny stars, I gave you oceans of warmth when you weren’t worth of even a drop. I gave you galaxies when you didn’t deserve specks of dust.
I gave you all my light, but you weren’t worth of even a tiny ray. No wonder I lie in darkness now. No wonder all I breathe is regret. No wonder the black hole has sucked me in. What is to wonder, though, is that even after you hurting me so damn much, my ears strive to hear you say my name, my eyes long to see you smile at me. What is to wonder is why, even after all this, my soul awaits to go through this ‘too much’ hell with you all over again.