-he said.
And she fell in love with a man who couldn't decide between hello and goodbye.

... I’m okay.

I have become as
.....h o l l o w
.......as the bottles I drink,
...............n u m b
.......as my cold fingers,
..e m p t y
..................as the inbox in my phone,
.....d i s o r i e n t e d
.............as this poem is written.

How much more naiveté
do I have to go through,
in order to realize?
Because I know I'm hurting,
yet I don't know how to explain the pain.

......Over, under, back and through
......No matter which way you put it
......These thoughts are always about 
  you.
......Trying to get you out of my head,
......Yet over, under, back and through
.......Here we go again,
.......What’s new?
.......Another sleepless night thinking about 
  you.

Some drink away their sorrows; I write away mine, exploiting the pain and declaring it as art. I wasn’t born a poet; I was broken into one.