We don’t have any ties whatsoever, and foolish me, I could never own any pieces of you, especially not your heart because it’s yours. Sure, you can tell me that it’s all mine every single time we make love, but at the end of the day it’s mine until you decide to take it away, so you see, it can never be mine. 

We’re not tied to one another, you get it now? We’re not tied to one another because it’s just you living in your head about the things that could be, meanwhile I’m over here sometimes wondering about how things are in your head at the moment, and other times completely engulfed in a life that looks like fantasy to some, and completely unfamiliar and unknown to you. 

I don’t ask you to look at my Instagram, and you have no right to ask me anything. Sure, we once shared a bond, but I share bonds all the time, and furthermore, it does not mean that you could ever own any pieces of me—especially not my heart.