2:43 AM
I crave your touch against my fingertips
I am having withdraws because of how nice your love was.
The daily clichè was an addiction
I looked forward to it like an addict looks forward to their "high"
I was high from your love daily
and now im using drugs to replace it.
you
you are the reason I'm up at such an odd hour
and I hate you for it. -H.M.M.

Be not sad because all men
Prefer a lying clamour before you:
Sweetheart, be at peace again -- -
Can they dishonour you?

They are sadder than all tears;
Their lives ascend as a continual sigh.
Proudly answer to their tears:
As they deny, deny.

I can't write a poem