After months of debating and bottling my feelings all to myself, I finally confessed to him.

I sent my well-worn confession through an email.

I said what I wanted to say, expressed what I wanted to express.

I promise, that would be the last time I'll confess to someone.

I'll promise to the world, from now on, I'll keep my words to myself. For all I know, my words, my heart, has done me no good. My words, no matter how sincere, no matter how well-strung they are, they always end up jeopardizing the relationships I have with people I hold dear.

From now on, I'll no longer write. My poems will be only history, my love will become a memory, all too well to be let out on the world, and just too much for anyone to handle. My words, no matter how I poured my heart into writing them, will best remain unsaid, unspilled on the pages of any blank paper.

My words, are my greatest downfall.