I love you,
I still do.
I miss you,
I always do.
I'm starting to forget your voice,
and I hate myself for it,
I had a chance to hear it everyday,
But I ******* it up,
and I lost you along the way.
That's my mistake.
I loved you
when I lost you
Loved you least,
when frustration got in my way,
Missing you now
Love you, always.
He likes her
She likes him
I can't change that
You must begin early
while it is cool and your head clear
discernment, a sharpened tine
probing the rocky darkness
for all things latent and destructive.
Be aware that the velvet sage
of the leaves belies their power
to take over every space, remember
roots burrow deep, anchoring in
fissures we don’t even know exist.
You must delve as close
to the origin as possible
or the **** you think eradicated
will bide its time, germinating
in the still secret ground
waiting for light
to penetrate the moist earth
waking the sprout
who voraciously pushes up and out
a curled blemish
in your otherwise carefully tended garden.
I wish you loved me enough to tell me
That you miss me.