I've spent the past four nights thinking about two things: how I should be missing you and how empty my chest feels when I realize I can't.
Most days I succumb to the loneliness.  My heart pounds so loudly in my hollow chest that I hope it's loud enough for you to hear, a tiphany drum of regret banging in your head. Time is spent wishing the bones inside of me would decompose into the earth.  At least if I turned into a flower you would think I was beautiful.
There are some days where I stand tall enough to catch a glimpse of the world in your eyes, a jubilant glimmer of hope, and for a moment I can see myself, a mere ember to your spark. But you've gotten used to sinking down to my level so often that when you peer into my eyes, there is an absence,  a lack of light.
I can't miss you.
I'm sorry.
I try, but I can't. I swear I didn't lie when I
said I loved you, I meant every ******* word. Lately the world has gotten the best of me, stripping me of my vocabulary and now all I say sounds like white noise.
I hurt myself to feel what it's like to feel.
There's an ache in my chest where you should be, but you're too busy filling yourself with my memory.
I wish I could just forget you.