You asked me to write a poem about you so here it is:

Hell is brown-eyed.

Today I watched him put his heart into an empty locker again...
He did it slowly and cautiously,
As if to put emphasis onto how long it's been since
He's satisfied himself and not satisfied me.
He used to indirectly claim
that I was smaller than his textbooks-
that I was smaller than his backpack, but just a more heavier weight to carry.
I never knew if he saw the strains I felt more as a burden than he did-
but if he did he ignored it because I never lost an opportunity to turn my pain into a fire-alarm.
Every day we talked about how if it ended it was worth it and
how it still made sense even if we counted days like a bombs detonating time.
His locker grew colder,
And I watched the clock more and more-
I guess he couldn't tell that
I was measuring my heartache with each heartbeat
That burned per second.
I guess he couldn't tell-
Because we talked like we knew each other.
Now I watch him put his heart into an empty locker...
I guess I shouldn't be surprised when I hear a heartbeat inside of there,
That belongs to neither mine,
Nor even belongs to his own.

I find myself forgetting who I used to be
The darkness that once consumed me vanished
Like a burnt out candle
And I don't know if this flame will ever reignite
But the smoke still lingers here
It seeps into the walls, into my bedsheets
The memories don't give me headaches anymore
Nor does smoke burn my throat or pollute my lungs
And I'm trying not to let the consequences of my previous mistakes anchor me down any longer
It's hard to write poems that don't make people want to cry
Because for the last five years that's all I've done,
Is cry
And dread the following day that has yet to arrive
As if I know how I'll be feeling when I'm 54, 65, 80
As if I know what beautiful days the future holds
As if I know the glorious moments that await me
I don't
Because life is a ticking time bomb without a visible countdown
How could I be so vain as to determine how long this sadness will last?
How could I play God?
I won't

I don't know what to say anymore
Its like no matter what I want it never happens

I've spent so much time hating you that I've been blinded by how much you've changed, and how much my hate for you
has changed me too.

This pillow case will never be the same
My heart is low and the tears won't stop
No matter what I'll ever do
I've sealed my fate and I lost you

There is a time
  There is a place
   There is a steady an true pace.
     There is hope for peace of mind
       There is faith within this place
In this morning where the sun may
never raise...
Again we wake on stranger tides
This foreign feeling that grows within (covers all our wicked sin)
No dawn to erase yesteryears mistake.
Now again we part our ways
With broken hearts in our hands
We watch the dawn break again.

"You are my muse," you said to me one sunny morning, holding me tight in your arms,
  Back when we first started off.
We thought we had it all,
  We thought we could brave through all the storms;
But we didn't.
  We couldn't.
We hadn't.
Gone were the days where I was the only one in your eyes,
  Like you were in mine.
A year later,
  I heard from you.
Excited, I gave it a thought.
  The thought that we might reconcile.
Unfortunately, we hadn't.
  We couldn't.

And we never would, ever again.

*"You were once my muse and I don't regret it."

I'm done,
I'm done pretending there's a cure
I'm ******
****** in the head
****** in the heart
You've finished  me
you tore me down
and I concede defeat
I have nothing left to give
no reason left to live
I hate to admit it, but
I'm done

There was a time when words
Inside my head poured for you
They’re creating your form
Like beautiful constellations
But you said that you have dyslexia
And refuse to read them through and through
The next thing I know
I stopped writing for you
Now I am ripping those pages
Just like you tore your promises
I am now writing a new book
With his heart as the cover look