its 4 am and I'm drunk off the very thought of you and I'm looking at the moon thinking about the first time we ever kissed and how the sun peeked over your shoulders and for a very brief moment my lips touched yours and your soul touched mine but now I'm alone at 4 in the morning and my blood is cold and slow and I'm staring at the moon wondering if its staring back at me from outer space as I'm forming galaxies of thoughts in my head imagining who invented things like semi colons and sentences and punctuation and I want to break every single grammar rule in existance by telling you that I am the human form of a run on sentence and that I love you more than any string of words could ever hope to say

I wish to identify myself
with every familiar part of you
to turn and face you at the break
of dawn and find comfort in the way
you breathe as you awake
and rest quite contently on your shoulders
as they bear the impossible weight
of an apology

I took shelter beneath your finger tips
as they turned the pages
of your favorite book
and I found myself seeking refuge
in your palms as you shook
my fathers hand

the same hand that held a
million different demanded
apologies and fragments of
broken promises and hooks
that wrenched themselves
around our hearts and
sunk down into our skin

the same hand that shoke
hastily at the arms of rapture
with veins that resembled
lightening strikes embedded in
our flesh

I want to forget the rest
of the world and go get
lost inside your chest
I want to call your body home
make friends with your bones and
take shelter beneath your ribcage

your smile radiates a rendered
warmth that my lips
haven't felt in days,
and as I turn to face your empty
bed side at the break of dawn
my mind suddenly recalls
the way your lips curled up
as you said you'd always stay

where, oh where have you gone

this is not a love letter.
I watched you breathe your last breath and stood there in silence as every last ounce of life left your body and I waited in the room as if still in silent hopes that your soul would condensate around me and fill my lungs with your voice and my hands with your heart and I can't ******* breathe because my brain doesn't know how to operate properly without your constant presence in my every day life.
this is not a love letter.
I have no idea what love is when you can't be in it with someone else. and as you left me I had half a mind to invite you to take my old notebooks and crumpled up papers and broken pencils and my love of poetry with you because now what the **** am I supposed to do?
you're gone.
you're gone you're gone you're gone and
oh my god I am alone.
I am alone, and this is not a love letter.
*This is not a love letter.
(I love you)