this is lying naked on your floor wondering why your life doesn't feel together
this is telling yourself sorry even though you can't remember what for
this is reminding yourself time passes and people will change eventually
this is keeping your distance but knowing exactly how far you are from him
this is crying into a sweater he probably wouldn't think you still had
this is never learning from your mistakes and wishing you could make the same ones
this is dreaming of a day where everything fits into its place
this is where you realize you'll continue to write for ghosts
that this is the missing piece
no one will ever know

There's never been a middle ground for me.
I can be terrifyingly drowning in my insecurities and self-pity one minute
then the loftiest songbird, soaring quaintly without worries the next.
The grey must be a boring place.
And in all optimism, surely there is someone who will accept me
for all my madness and sanity.

A poet in love
Is a match soaked
In gasoline.

-r0