You know what ***** the most?
That I miss you
even at my happiest.

A book of
incomplete stories,
almost loves,
unsung songs,
& broken dreams-
sometimes
that is what
her entire life
felt like.

There are some wounds you never show
Some stories you never tell
Not to your best friend, partner, lover,
or any other soul -
They remain locked and buried
Within the deepest parts of you.
You don't even whisper about them to the wind
Except maybe to the darkest of nights.  

I hope someday
You won't have to carry them to your grave
I hope you will be healed and free of them.

I swear
I don't intend to
But somehow
All the words
That tumble out of my pen
Revolve around you
As if you were the sun
To my earth.

If you painted me
As the villain in your story
So you could be the hero in hers
Then I hope
At least to her
You remained the hero
Till the last chapter.

Home
Used to be
You

Now
The entire world is a
Mighty stranger

And I don't care about
Fitting in anymore.