I will be there,
When you are falling apart,
When you have tears in your eyes,
When you have nothing left to live for,
When you have everything to lose,
I will be there.

The question is
Will you be there?

Sometimes writing about it is the hardest part.

How could I be so stupid,
So ******* stupid,
That I couldn’t see the
Emptiness
In your eyes.
Was I blinded
By the fullness in mine?
Or did I simply spend
One too many hours
One too many days
One too many months
Hoping you were still the person
That used to
See me,
Before passion could
Be imagined,
Before love
Was optional.

If I were a sound
I would be the sound
of wind
forgotten amidst
the cacophony of life
but ever present
whipping through the trees
surrounding you
in the distant sound
of far away places

If I were an animal
I would be a mouse
quiet
so as not to be found
but living with you
in the wall
the floor
anywhere you won't look
I don't wish to be seen
so I scurry
living off the scraps
of my housemate

If I were a number
I would be the number
eleven
two thin lines
that are ignored when factoring
lost in the scramble
to scribble down notes
two lines that are
separate
but the same
and sometimes distant

If I were a person
I would be the person
in the back
head down
hair in my eyes
so no one sees
the truth that lies
in them
That I am
the wind
I am
a mouse
the number eleven
that I would be
in the back

But I'm not
because you put a hand up
to block the wind
bought a cat
to **** the mouse
were dividing by two
so didn't need eleven
and looked back
in class
and sneered
at the person there

Blue-eyed boy.
You will be the death of me.