I hope you choose you next time

I hope you don’t come back to that boy again. The one with mousetrap hands and lips that taste of what-ifs and betrayals. The one you wish for to have another shot with, to forget.
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I hope you know better now. That wounds will never heal if you keep coming back to the cause. If you keep touching the fire.
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I hope you’re stronger when that time comes. Or at least, strong enough to keep the doors locked when he makes his way back to you. To walk away before your carefully paper-mached pieces go up in smoke.

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I hope you choose you next time

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