I think of you more than a lot
I think of you so much
I think of how you're not mine.
I think about how this is something i should be over
I think about how much i still love you
I think about how i shouldn't
I think you're beautiful
I think you're the worst ever
I think you're my pink cloud
I think of you
I think I'm sick and tired of it all.

For so long I have been so strong.
I can feel my armour starting to
deteriorate.
I miss you and yes, it does hurt.
These late nights have been getting so long.
I've waiting for the wrong people
to answer my texts
wishing it was you.
The thought of you being gone
forever has finally started setting in
and there is a fire in my lungs
because of it.
It's almost like I was sure you were
going to come back,
and you never did.

She doesn’t always look the same
Sometimes she’s a silver sphere
Fooling you that she is bright
But she’s just a mistress of the night

Sometimes only half of her you can see
Following you wherever you’ll be
She hides while dancing in the sky
Half, still a full beauty up high

In time, she becomes thin, crescent
Like a smile, a blissful moment
She looks delicate, discriminating
Only a part of her, still breathtaking

And only those prison of the night
Will witness the euphoric stint
Of showing pieces of her then
The beauty of becoming whole again