I lost a part of myself
The day you walked away from me.
The part that loved,
The part that felt.

I used to love the bay where we watched the sunset,
now it's polluted with
sickly sweet people with their hands intertwined
with people they think they love.

We used to listen to John Mayer on the stereo
every night before we sleep,
I traced endless patterns on you bare chest,
your fingers tangled in my messy curls,
now I hate his songs because they remind of you,
so and so that they make me cry.

You used to take me to long drives
in midnight,
now you made me an insomniac who
wants nothing to do with the midnight
because it's when memories of you haunt me.

You took from me
A part I'm never getting back,
A part that took more than half of my being.
Because now I realized,
once you were gone,
I was also gone.