Not in love

No rush to see you leave. No desire to chain your needs to mine. I don’t intend to be your heart’s thief. But I’ll allow it, it will be fine. Too damaged to accept admiration. Too much grief to feel elation. Shy and confuse and happy at once; using two-thousand and sixty-five different fonts. A light had blinded me, and so I slid back into the dark. I wanted to see and allowed the first spark. I am not in love, just intrigued. I am waiting for the realisation that all of this was dreamed. It is not, I know for sure. And a tiny piece of my heart will from now on be yours.

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