I miss you the way I miss the time we were alive in.

My heart longs for you and my innocence in the same manner.

My stomach twists in contempt for every feeling that you don’t give me.

Don’t you see?
The loss of innocence is
so
much
more
than paying bills and paying for gas.
So
much
more
than taking a pill every night and needing to have a plan.
It’s
losing the ability to hear a high pitch that is both pleasing and displeasing.
It’s
not enjoying an education with the cost in mind.
It’s
knowing.

Knowing your sister is probably depressed
and your mother is, too.
Knowing there’s no safe shot to a simple destination.
And worst of all,
It’s
Knowing that love is something you learned about when you were
innocent
and with the high-pitched frequency.
It’s
Gone.

“Like, Love, Just, Know, Time.”
The top five most-used words on a simple poetry site.

Like
The ocean,
Your curves are crashing waves that pull me under
Your thoughts are the unknown depths one can only hope to explore
one day.

Love
Once, twice,
one hundred times
before realizing everything is relative
and everything is only relative for me
to you.

Just
What do you want from me,
anyway?

Know
You are beautiful to everyone
But the definition changes
just like it did from you
to me.

Time
Wounds.
All heals.

When I want to cry, I read your poetry.
Out loud.

I revisit the feeling of unwantedness.
Unwantedness, like that’s even a word.

“But it is!” you’d tell me and once
again and
again
I’d feel stupid about what I didn't know yet.

Even if it was not true.