Poetry is what keeps me up late at night

Wasn't I enough? Maybe I gave you too much..
It's the way you make me feel,
All alone, even though you're right next to me.
My chest bursting,
The feeling of holding back these tears
Because you are near, I don't want you to hear.
Was I ever good enough? Was I worth it?
Was I too much?
I cared, didn't I?
I loved you, I did.

Maybe my love wasn't good enough after all.
Since you are gone.

Love is not lust tho' lust may lead to love
As seedlings basked in sunlight spring to flowers,
Young blooms may make a golden treasured trove
Where tender tulips kiss in huddled bowers

Love ripens like straw-nested berry fields,
Plump, juicy, flavoursome, and blushing red
As nature's bounteous sweet harvest reveals
Her shapely form resplendent in her bed

Love is an acorn to the mighty oak,
Deep-rooted and unbounded by the sky;
Love ripples like a genteel puddled cloak
Laid bare to keep a silken petal dry

    Love is but love and life is but to love:
    So poets write and lovers seek to prove

Maybe I was foolish to fall in love with someone like you.
To let you take part of my body,
To let you see the whole me.
Or maybe I was blind?
Maybe I knew, but didn't want to believe the truth..