Citrus, rosemary and peppermint (from the hot chocolate you hate)
under the Christmas lights (of the mall you hated),
these memories, push them out.

Our laughter at your stupid jokes ( I hated),
stolen glances, and a given kiss,
amongst the cold outdoor desert air.

Poets of passion,
writing stories of love on our skin,
a language of desire and longing.

Your ink forever stains my heart,
a reminder, that I am not happy,
that I am not good enough,
that I am forever mourning.

My heart which longs to fickle,
it longs to belong, someday, find another.
Yet it is chained, with a fragile ember,
amongst your ink that stains it.
That refuses to die, that you are alive,
you are breathing, you are here, you never left.
( I hate myself)
(I hate myself)
(I am a fool)
I wish to hear your stupid joke, "what did the horse say. . ." (what a stupid joke) once more.

This love that echoes, in the chasm of longing.
  Whispers of winds, of lovers in a life before.
      Bound by a love that pierces the veil of time,
           Ethereal, Eternal, Fleeting Love.
              Two souls conjoined in purgatory,
                   beat with a single heart.
                      Forever bound, to conjoin, but drift apart
                          in this dance, let us hope we are given a second chance.

You're happier without me,
I know I wasn't what you wanted.
Please, say you miss me, even though we both know you don't.
Say you love me . . . once more.

The smell of melons & sweat,
from your cheap clean shampoo, amongst the dreary rain.
Two wet lips met, in your ancient truck.
We'd talk about our future, as I lay my head on your lap.
Time was trivial, just the thrill of eyes that may see.
I want to be loved,
I want to be yours,
In another life, we will meet again
amongst the smell of melons, muddy cleats & ***** rain.
I want to be loved,
I want to be yours 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃

I remember the tears,
I remember the hurt,
I remember the fear
There was no food, no money, just yells of desperation.
Life was mundane, or maybe it was the hunger?
I vowed, I would never suffer , cry or go hungry that day.
& yet I did all three this week, its ironic.
You can have everything in the world , everything you dreamed.
Everything you wanted. . . but still feel so powerless,
life is a roller coaster, we are its occupants.
I will vow again, but that will just be lying.