How can emptiness be so heavy?

there will only be two things that will happen to you:

either you end up in my poems of heartbreak, remorse, and sadness,
or,
you end up beside me with my hand in yours.

beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display

You're going to miss me when I'm gone
and the way our fingers
traced each lie on skin

I have a pocket full of regrets
and an empty heart
so where shall I begin?

your beauty left me wanting more
but you're the flower
I should've never picked

Some things are better off admired from afar,
causing thorns to lose their power, but your pain
made me a willing addict

I tried to pick up all your pieces
and assemble them
the best I could

but in the end, beneath the pressure, you crumbled
you were more fragile
than I truly understood

I changed my sheets today -
the ones that smelled like your cologne...
Actually, "tore them from my bed with the ferocity of Midas" may be more appropriate.
Because I couldn't stand to spend one more night pretending as if you were here -
or as if you were ever coming back.

I washed that shirt you wore
You know, my favorite one.
The same one I've slept in every night since you left
just praying to find some morsel of solace
to delay the impending insanity of sleep deprivation.
But just because I could smell you
didn't mean you were there...didn't mean you were real
and I almost started to wonder if you'd been here at all.

I didn't eat today
or the day before that, if I'm being honest.
Food has no taste, no pleasure
without you at the table, fork and knife in hand
ready to devour it - and me.

I went for a walk today
down the street to our favorite spot
and I didn't spend my time wishing you had your arm around me
or wishing you were holding my hand
or wishing that your warmth was pressed against me to help tame the goosebumps.
Or at least I tried not to.
But who am I kidding?

I met someone new today.
He smiled at me and said something forgettable..
then asked me to go to dinner with him next week
and there's nothing I'd like more than to say yes
but still...

After all this time
I know it's your face I would see staring back at me across that table
and your body I would wish for
lying next to me in bed.