i wonder if you understand how much love i have for you. i feel like it’s not the same amount from you and it always hurts to think about but i will never do anything about it

i open my chest to show my heart, beating, pouring the blood
all over my lungs and bones
but i let you stick your fingers in.
i forget that people get carried away. a poke becomes a jab,
a jab becomes a clutch,
and slowly you squish my heart
at the palm of your hands, turning it into pudding.
it’s my fault, really
i just forget that people get carried away.

like those dandelions;
you’re picked from your soil,
prodded with their fingers,
pulling your petals apart.
does he love me?
does he love me not?

with every petal plucked.
you give back
and grow two instead.
letting them collect your pieces.

and for that i think
you deserve
the moon,
the stars,
all what the universe has to offer,
and nothing less.