I’m homesick for arms that don’t want to hold me.

There are moments in which
I convince myself that the sun shines in your eyes.
There are also moments in which
I'm afraid I'll drain you of that very light that drew me to you.
I've only ever taken from people,
I've only ever fallen out of love,
but your lips feel more like home that any house I've ever lived in.
People says that humans are like toys,
initially interesting but eventually jaded.
But what I've learnt is that people aren't like toys at all.
They can't be fixed with a few screws and some glue.
What I've learnt is that you can't really fix a person,
all you can do is love them,
and loving is hard for a girl that's only ever known airport terminals
and indefinite goodbyes.
But I'm willing to try my best for the boy who has eyes that shine that shine as bright as the morning sun.

I stand on the rocky ground between heaven and hell.
My mother once told me that you can't have it all,
but she never met you with your sweet lips and soft eyes.
I loved you deeply,
fully,
wholly.
I loved you more than I loved my own consciousness.

Somone once told me that falling in love
felt a lot being set on fire.
Watching as you disappeared in front of your own eyes,
dwindling down to ashes,
love felt a lot like being ablaze.

You were my inferno.
You were reckless and you burned bright enough to blind me,
but you also warmed me from the inside out.
Looking back,
I can't tell where you stopped warming me,
and began burning me.
I never noticed my fingertips turning to ash
and my heart hardening from your touch.
But I needed you.
I needed warmth, even if I knew from the beginning
that you'd be my demise.
I would always choose the most lethal weapon.
You were no exception.

Your love was fire,
it left me with scattered fragments of my former self.
And it's tragic that I'll always need someone to piece me back together
so that I can feel whole again.
When I loved you,
I watched everything fade around me,
until you were the only one left in my universe.
So when you left,
I felt this desolation that swallowed me from the inside.
Love is a paper boat that sinks,
and I am a sailor that never learnt how to swim.

I drove out to your house last night
and your mom told me that you've been well.
And I don't know why that hurt so much.
But I've been thinking that maybe it was because,
you've moved on from the memories of us.
Maybe you've forgotten the scent of my body wash,
and it's ****** that I can still smell hints of yours in my sheets.
The night you left,
I drowned myself in a bottle of your favorite wine,
and I could've sworn I heard echoes of your voice in the ripples
of the dark plum liquid.
I spent the night throwing up into the sink,
and sobbing into the bath mat.
Maybe you've forgotten my electric-blue fingernails,
that traced lazy circles on the back of your hand.
Maybe you've forgotten the kisses I planted on the corners of your mouth.
Maybe you've forgotten just how much I begged
for you to stay.
Because I hear you've been doing well,
and I still can't listen to your favorite song without heaving.
I guess it hurts to be forgotten,
just as it hurts to remember.

I drove out to your house last night
and I crashed my Toyota into a street light on my way back.
The flickering light casted a shadow on the hood of my white car
and I noticed that it looked a lot like the ones we casted
on the night you first kissed me.
"She's lost too much blood," the paramedic wore the same cologne as you.
I screamed as they charged the defibrillator
full of the memories I tried to escape.
"Time of death: 1:35 AM."

You cried at my funeral.
I was sorry.

I guess it hurt letting go,
just as it hurts to be let go.