knowing she’ll never be mine.
The stabs from within
grow more gruesome.

The breaths I’ve been taking
weigh heavy.

The poison I ingest
numbs the pain inside—
but weakens the seals of my mouth,
revealing my greatest failures
to the ones around.

They say time heals all wounds…
but mine festers as it ages.
Is it the saying who's wrong—
or is it me?