It wasn't the common kind of sadness.
It was dark,
engulfing,
consuming.

It was a vast and dark ocean,
and I was nothing
but a tiny rock
thrown in it.

I sank hard,
I sank fast.
There at the bottom,
I stayed.

Never seeing.
Never leaving.

my body haunts me
with the unwritten verses
of a starving poet

and my body tingles
with the emotions
of caged heart of fire

(b.d.s.)

I thought I was over you.
But I still check my messages at two in the morning,
hoping your name will magically appear.
Asking me how my day went,
how I spent my afternoon.
Telling me you missed me.
I'm hoping.
I don't know why, but I still am.

I'm hoping you'll come back,
say sorry that you left me hanging.
I'd probably say it's okay,
that I didn't mind.
That we were both busy at that time,
and didn't really notice the silence slowly devouring us.
But I did and it hurt.
It hurt a lot.
But that's okay because it's you.
I could never be mad at you.

I'll always come back to you.

i've built a ******* tower around my heart and i seem to have lost the key.

it's been months now and no prince charming has come to save me, no big bad wolf to blow down the walls.

some days i feel the walls crack a tiny bit, though they mend themselves in no time.

but lately i've felt the walls towering up, higher and higher, trapping me deep within. as more and more bricks are added to the structure, the more i am disconnected and strange.

lately i'm starting to prefer being alone, and i don't like it.

this stupid ******* fortress that you drove me to make will be my undoing.

Your absence is nothing
but a reminder
of your missing presence.

A little note telling me
that you're never coming back.
A soft whisper in my ear,
fingers running through my hair,
burning lips on cold skin--
meticulously painting the night sky
in colors unknown to man.

It would have been beautiful,
this thing we used to have.
Except it's now gone,
and all that's left
are bitter hearts and sad poems.