.
.
.
When I think of you,
I can't help but think about
your sleepy voice
telling me "good morning"
the way you took my dogs in
and spoiled them like your own
the way you calmed my fears
and beat my demons into submission
the way your skin always radiated
a warm, angelic glow
the way you fought for me
til you had nothing for yourself
the way you loved me so hard
you almost had me loving myself
the way you built me up so high
to knock me down later
but most importantly,
when I think of you
I can't help but think
of all those last chances you gave me
you were the best thing
that ever happened to me
and thinking about you is killing me, but I know that you would make me regret contacting you. But I want to hear your voice more than anything