I am thankful for the broken hearts which came before mine.
for bleeding romantics who wrote sonnets, reminiscent of lost love and dire yearning;
for young lovers departed and never returning, for dreams which died upon waking and poison roses in the courtyard.
I am thankful for the ones who lost, before I ever knew what there was to be found.
for the silhouette of a drowning lady, asphyxiating in a room of only air and empty shells;
for the sounds of footsteps carrying across the last road we’ll walk together.