I make my
Homes
in
flesh and bones.

Loving you is easy,
And that makes
all
the
difference

I've always loved to test the limits,
 to push a bit to far.
Such as when I stare at old scars
pondering just how deep I could pry  them open, to see how far I can go before I slip into that abyss, to see how much it would take to fill this
void

These pages are the only
place where I am allowed
to love you,
Thus I write.

My eyes have become a resting place for all the memories I've watched us make, there is such irony in the constant replays
Though you are no longer here, I still see you

I will no longer mourn the inches of me
that loved
you

I looked into that old antique shop that we once spent countless hours with trinkets and what nots
on that fall day, my heart sank in my chest for it was now just another place I could never go to again
because the ghost of our love haunts
it