No amount of people can fill the hole you left in my heart.
No amount of anyone can cleanse you from my insides.
You’re moss; growing strong from the waves of my tears that stream endlessly.
You leave longing in my heart.
The days are spent drinking you away but, as a ship must come back to port, my heart always comes back to miss you.

After what seems like an eternity
Of a long line of "could've"s
Pieces of my life are falling perfectly
Like the leaves in fall
Or the snow in winter
Similar to the loose petals of flowers in Spring
Just as the grace of the wind carried them
It is carrying me
To have everything come together
Like the perfect symphony
Composed effortlessly

"Have you ever read the book "He's just not that into you"?" Is how this conversation started.
Within a matter of minutes my head had been slammed into the spinning door of consistent "he's just not that into you"'s.
But I can't help but hear your voice fill my head with fog, condensation of your velvet voice trapping me again with your sweet nothings. Sweet nothings that led me to believe you were into me.
My heart breaks at those words.
What made me so awful? Is the only question I can ask myself.
Once the question is posed I'm brought to my own personal court. Trying to defend myself from my brain mapping out all the wrong things I've done, all the things wrong with me. These are the reasons nobody loves you the prosecutor yells at me.
I have no more defense left.
The only answer is to slap on the handcuffs and accept that my heart is just not worth loving.