I miss you.
Like the desert longs for rain,
I like the dry    clay    ground am cracked.
Music holds different melodies,
the beauty of it    rings less    in my ears. My heart beats a different rhythm,
as if    missing a note.
I'm wondering   not yet    lost,
but found.
This is me        partly whole,    
saying   I     miss    you.

I think I could fill volumes upon volumes of books
filled with words and phrases and sentences
that you would never tell me.

I could write forever about the words you did say.
The ones that held no truth, only deception,
and blinded me for months.

I could spend a lifetime reciting the way your voice
would raise and come at me like a knife with no apology
and tear me down before your eyes.

But despite all that,
I could never in a million years
describe the way it felt when you said my name
for the very first time.

He said he would treat me like fine china.
And I told him
that was all fine and good
But one day I would not look like fine china.
I would look more like the old mug he drinks coffee out of every morning.
But then he took my hands
and pulled me in close
And said
That's even better.
Then every morning I can wrap my hands around your warm and familiar curves
and drink you in.
Every last drop.

Before I met you I thought addiction meant 6 cups of coffee a day.
But now I know it means just one.

Who am I
to think I was stronger
than the way you looked at me
when you thought I couldn't see.

Who am I
to think that my heart
would never quicken it's pace
when you touched my hand.

Who am I
to think that my head
would never spin stories
about the two of us together.

Who am I
to think that my mouth
would never curve into a smile
when you laugh at something I said.

Who am I
to think that I could have the willpower
to resist you.

Learning to breathe again is
Harder than the doctors
Said it would be

Gasping for air
And I find myself
Choking on your
Name