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I miss you so viciously.
I always forget the tragedy of this feeling.

Instinct often overrides common sense,
leading me to craving your lips, your touch, your everything.
But most of all,
I miss your eyes.
Your eyes were the perfect hue of crushed aquamarine and sapphire stones.
Many times those eyes had to observe from the edges my sorrow and despair.
Now, I'm observing those eyes smiling, but I'm no longer the cause.

I made this choice, to leave you,
to leave all of our past behind me.
I crawled out of the ditch that was our relationship,
burying everything six feet under, where I couldn't dig it back up.
Late nights and late night thoughts brought me back to that ditch.
The absence of you has led me back to the days when the smile you have now was because of me.
The absence of you carves out what has been left of my sanity and I terrorize myself with my impeccable recall.

Six days ago, I was on top of the world,
while simultaneously existing beneath a sheet of ice covering a pond.
Without your permission,
I fell back into your aquamarine and sapphire eyes.
I was mesmerized by the remnants of our connection.

But the time has passed for any confessions outside of these words.
Six hundred and fifty miles will soon separate us and put a strain on me.
Because of you and my woven tragedy,
I'm gaining an ache directly below my breast bone.
It's barely there,
not at all visible to the naked eye.
But it's starting to cut just a little close,
getting much nearer to my throat.
It's clogging up with an ache that rivals the one growing just beneath my hard-won shell.

You've made your lasting impression on me and my nervous system.
Your eyes are forever imprinted on the insides of my eyelids,
unable to be rubbed away.

Now I'm just left with this chaotic pain,
and echoes of words screamed into my face.
You are hard to put into words.

You leave me speechless at times,
but the again, occasionally,
I have the daring urge to scream so loud at you that spittle flies.

More often than not though,
I just want to scream at myself.

The night sky and the stars and the moon question me.
Irresolution creeps to the basement of my soul,
snapping the homemade defenses in two.
Bile and tears climb my throat as shadow and trepidation crawl into my head.

Hidden secrets fester along with the feeling of emptiness.
That void eats positivity like a tiger eats deer:
stalking resolutely,
followed by a pounce,
and then teeth shredding everything to little bits.

The stars cry out for answers,
while the sky demands too much in order to maintain my sanity,
and the moon just gazes inquisitively,
wondering what darkness brought me to my knees.

Bright colors wash out in the moonlight while indecision clouds my perception.
Misunderstanding loops around all of my decisions;
death to all right-doing.
It's only half past the point of no return,
And I'm just dying for a drink to get me by.
A cigarette in either hand would suffice,
Or a nice bit of snus to cure my sliced up wrists and my sliced up heart.
I never bled for you directly, better conditioned to waste away nights with ***** and poor decisions.
I don't know who decided that my plans were wrong and misguided,
But **** 'em.
I have been beaten down by the one I loved, to the extent that no one else should, not even her.
I just need a little of the bud I hate in order to quiet the demons that scream every waking moment without you.
I write to fight them off, to fight the sinking memories of "everything" we had, and force them into an airtight box, with an unbreakable seal.
So that not even ghost whispers of "I think I love you too" can taunt me.
I am steel, iron, titanium!
You will not break me.
You've done enough already with intention and I crave physical pain to prove your hatred.
But you never laid a hand on me, better equipped with sour words and a vice grip on my heart that wouldn't stop squeezing.

It's only half past eight,
And the sun is a distant memory, just like all the little moments we had that meant so much at the time.
I don't know where you are right now.
It scares me a lot.
Worst case scenarios scream into my head, logical ones being shoved away in a last ditch attempt at cynicism.
The fact that I'm crying and falling apart so solidifies your existence in my life.
You mean more to me than I ever meant to let a friend mean to me again.
Not after him.
Not after he made a mockery of our friendship.
Not after everything that changed because of that, because of him.
The fact that I don't know what I'd do without you now, only proves your worth.
I want you to stay.
I don't want you to be like the others.
We've spoken of broken promises and how actions scream while words make no sound at all.
I've found explanation and cures for unknown, fatal viruses.
And this clock that keeps ticking, is mocking my anxiety and fear of your safety.

I know where you are now.
I know you're safe, at least safer than I thought you were.
You'd be safer if you were here, but then again so would I.
Without your contact, I've let the others step in easily and consume me.
Without your consent, I let myself slip back into times when I was vulnerable and weak.
Without you, my memories are cutting deep and I'm unable to sew myself up quick enough.
I stand by my decision of forcing you out of my life.
And the tears that are forming are merely weaknesses taking advantage of my broken night.
I haven't missed you in months.
Anger has taken firm grip of my heart and I haven't grieved your escape since that first night.
But I was the one that escaped your tortuous words that exhausted all my strength.
I gag at one memory, but the others flood my mind, ones of times when you supported me, and let me cry on the phone.
You were my best friend, but you've been replaced.
But tonight I'm trying to find something in her that is impossible to find because it doesn't exist within her.
It exists within you.
It exists within all of our walks, talks, and exalted dreams.
It exists within the fears we secretly held, but didn't even let ourselves think of.
And I haven't craved your companionship in ******* forever and I can't stand this agony.
But I stand by my decisions, especially when I know they were borne of reason and logic.
I managed to survive the last week of September without you, still stung with disbelief.
I got through October dazed and drunk, smoking more than ever before.
Through November ended mistakes brought from October's drunken nights, but brought more pain than I could breathe through, or bleed out.
December flourished without you, made me believe that maybe this would all get easier.
January continued flourishing, but heavy bricks rained down upon my head, conjuring up wishes that you were here to help.
February started the distractions, the utter confusion, and brought back the inklings of pain.
Without you, I got through the endless amounts of stress that March dragged in and out of my heart, and I reached goals without you there to hold my hand.
But April, I narrowly escaped. I barely took a solid breathe that wasn't tinged with a thought of you all month. I didn't go a night without questioning your existence, and mine. Seeing you for the first time since that last week in September destroyed me.
And now, May, I know I can remain living without you, but it won't be without you on my mind. The memories of this month will haunt me, just like last month's haunted me. But I'll scream, cry, curse past the pain and walk into June with a confident smile.
I can't handle this.
And I'm done.
I'm sick of craving and fighting and losing.
No one likes not getting what they want,
But I have this knack of getting what I don't want and hurting over what I do.
'Beggars can't be choosers' but I was taught to never settle.
Baby, I want you, but I want so many others too.
And now I can't even figure out if I want any of you.
You've all broken a tiny piece of me, mostly unintentionally.
But I can't take it anymore.
I can't breathe past the innate weakness drowning me,
Or the multitude of eyes flashing before mine with waves of concern oozing out from their cores.
I want you, I crave you, and I need you so badly.
I don't want this anymore though.
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