You broke my heart & scattered the pieces so that no one could find them; I think you may have even kept a piece for yourself.
Regardless, I keep finding you in between the lines of my writing and I can't decide if it's because I subconsciously want you, or need you.
I promised myself that I'd learn to live without you, but somehow you're the air in my lungs, & I'm choking on the thought of what we were.