I always think I know it all,
Yet every day I learn so much.
I think of how I don't miss you at all,
Yet every night I yearn so much.
You were the spine to the book of my life,
The stitches closing the wound from their knife,
But now my pages are out of order, like a scrambled and hurriedly written essay,
And I'm bleeding out every second, even to this day.

It's not often that mere conversation like we had makes me feel so intrigued, but when you sang those few songs your voice made me feel tranquility in a dose I've truly never felt. My heart fluttered, and if I hadn't been floating in a pool I would have had to sit down, my knees were so weak. You couldn't see in the darkness but I was in awe, so much so that if we had been standing in a room full of art, I only could have looked at you.
I swear you turned the night sky into tie dye, a hippy haven for my mind. On heavens hill I found my soul, all my anxieties flowed out. I drank more slowly once your voice came forward, it was much more intoxicating than the lager I had chosen. I knew all these feelings may have been the alcohol, but I decided, **** it. I never feel intrigued, I was so surprised to have my interests peaked, that I would entertain myself and you, because for once, I didn't freeze.

I awoke the next morning, after sleeping off my chemicals, both the ones I ingested and the ones my body produced at the sight of such a pleasing specimen of the female form. I found my head hurting, but remembered the sights I saw, the glow of the stars and string lights, melted in my memory to form a tie dye blot, the colors meddled together. It was as astronomically beautiful as you had been the night before.

It's OK not to be inspired.
You can look at a sunset
Without seeing the colours as smudges of chalk
On the divine, stretched-out canvas of sky.
And you don't have to write everything down,
Because not everything has to be permanent.
Some things only last for as long as you remember them,
And it doesn't make them any less special
Just because they weren't written down or spoken life into.
Existing is art, and creating something
That no-one ever gets to hear is still art.
You're a poet even when you're not rushing to your notebook
Before the words fall through your fingers, slippery with desperation,
Motivation, inspiration for the next poem.
So slow down, because if you forget your masterpiece
Because you were enjoying a careless moment of misplaced inspiration,
Who cares? Even if no-one saw it, you know you created an awesome poem.

You set the night on fire that night. I saw you in that red dress, one of my favorites. It was weird, because all I could imagine was taking it off of you and bringing you closer to me. It was weird because by that point we were both sick and disgusted by each other's touch. Or so we said. No matter how far apart we slept on that mattress we would still wake up entangled, I'd always feel your hand creep close first. I'd always accept. I couldn't turn down such a touch, such a stoking of the flames in my soul. I thought I could never truly tire of it. But now that I'm here, after experiencing many more touches, I've realized a lot. Mainly, that you didn't deserve that, and I shouldn't have accepted. But looking back on it regretfully won't help, will it? So I'll just pretend it was worth it, until I feel that sensation again.

After that night, I didn't have to look to the skies to see stars.
I didn't have to look into a pool to see waters worth wading in, for I found the depths whose pressure I could stand right there in your eyes.
I saw the stars when I reached heaven with you, our skin, sweating, pressed against each other. I looked God in the eyes and said, "We are one", and he made it so. But even then I couldn't have said that I loved you, which is when the stars began to fall down upon me, leaving craters in my soul.
Your whispers, your form and figure in the night were mine and mine only. We went deeper, entwining even our souls, every ounce of spirit we had was given. But in finding those waters I forgot how to swim, and I began to drown in your presence from thereon out.