I feel my fingers searching for yours to interlock with
My ears waiting to hear you call my name
Eyes that look for your face in the crowd
There are nostrils that miss the scent of your cologne
A heart that longs for your reciprocated feelings

The way things were before

But all my fingers feel are my own bed sheets
I hear the crickets sing during midnight when I need you most
There is nothing in front of me but the wall
Creamy, dull, and empty
My nose can't smell a single odor
It is stuffed with mucus as I cry myself to sleep tonight
My chest is filled with needles
Aching, sore, and quite unbearable at the moment

Because I realized, my soul is searching for yours.

it has been one year, eleven months, and four days since i last saw your face
since i watched your hand raise to your lips like a nun in silent prayer in a farewell
just for me
through the ***** window
as i held the folded up note in my hand like my heart that was drawn with the words i needed to explain to you that I was scared I would forget how to breathe with you gone
that i still needed you
and then you were gone, your body disappeared out sight
it has been one year, eleven months, and four days since you left
and now i have something to say
i was sixteen years old, and my eyes were bright
i was sixteen and the way you dragged your fingertips across my back as you walked by like mice scurrying across the floor made me feel more than i ever thought it was possible to feel
how naive of me
i was sixteen and when your rough lips grazed my ear like an animal stalking its prey my heart exploded for every single possibility that your words held
i was sixteen and every time my father struck me i could feel it reverberating through my bones because my tender mind hadn’t caught up with my aching body yet and i knew  i knew that you were wrong
but when you stroked my hair and kissed my fingertips and your hands grasped my waist like you were holding on for dear life the only truth i could hear above the frantic beating of my heart was that you wanted me
that you validated me
you weaved your hands between my ribs and slipped your fingers around my heart and when you left YOU RIPPED OUT MY HEART AND TOOK IT WITH YOU
YOU SHATTERED EVERY WAY IN WHICH I THOUGHT I WAS WORTHWHILE

i’m not sixteen anymore
and i spent one year, eleven months, and four days trying to make the pieces of my broken self fit together in the same way that they did before your eyes become the reason that i smiled every day
i’ve spent all this time trying to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault, wasn’t my fault, wasn’t my fault WASN’T MY FAULT
I DON’T CARE WHAT THEY SAY BECAUSE YOU CAN’T TELL ME IM WISE FOR MY AGE WHEN I LET A MONSTER REDEFINE THE TRUTHS I THOUGHT I KNEW ABOUT MYSELF
it has been one year, eleven months, and four days
I want my heart back

you're my oxygen
I can't breathe without you

you're my brain
I won't function without you

you're my blood
my body can't circulate without you

together we form a team:

so memorable
so inseparable
so impeccable

never degradable
never unacceptable

always unforgettable
always immeasurable

no one can ever calculate us

even though some might crave us

-o.h

do you know
how hard it is
to walk smiling
when all you feel is pain
sadness and tears on your face?

i am a black hole
and you
are the stars.

he told me i tasted like 12 o'clock sun on chilly days without names. since he mentioned days without names, they had been my favourite kind of days. in my head, every day had a colour and yesterday was yellow. you pulled over and got out of the car when i asked you why we could not buy another bottle of red wine for the fifth time. i looked down at my veiny hands and fondled the key that he had left behind. it killed me how everything reminded me of him. i thought that liquid self-pity would erase him but it only made him appear even more distinct. i tried to patch up myself when you was asleep; i kissed the freckles on your back and connected them by drawing constellations and celestial bodies with my silky whisper. i wore long sleeves because my heart was stained by his soporific words. he made me feel calm without effort; it made my skin crack. the way he held me tight made me want to throw up butterflies. you never made me want to throw up butterflies; you only drugged my body with sweet drops of poison. i am fond of you, you would always say and i would always force a smile and take another sip. he adored my blue lips. the more you loved me, the more i adored being intoxicated. after half a year, a few bottles a day made me love you back. i could name every débit de boissons in bordeaux.

hey kiddo, i have brought you a glass of my favourite wine.

he visited me on a chilly day without name. i was already dead when he found me.

*(k.w)

i want to kiss every inch of your tattered soul