Tiny seeds

Im writing to you in my hour of need. This is my minute of comfort in a second of regret. Explain to me the error of my ways. Help me to see what damage I have done. I can not see through these rose colored glasses of mine. The light pink and soft reds paint a subtle yet daring picture of lust and pain. Leaving ripped edges and burnt corners on the canvas. Pain can be poisonous yet enticingly sweet like a strawberry once bitten. The small seeds build in your throat unknowingly trying to suffocate you but leave your lips tingling. Take another bite and slowly taste the deep red and sweet bliss of this new obsession. The touch of hands to backs to lips to thighs all seemed like a good idea at the time. But see that's when the damage started. Now I don't know if it was you or me but soon after we allowed our lust to take over. In that time, that short period of lust, pain gently caressed our necks with passionate holds so tight that we just thought this was bold and intriguing. A new form of excitement that needed to be explored. I didn't realize at the time that this new journey would have me bleeding from my eyes and unable to catch my breath. I was drowning in this new excitement that was going way to fast for me. As days continue, I try to see the error of my ways. The damage I had done. Only to realize it was the sweet tiny berry seeds that took us out.