"What is your favorite despicably beautiful thing?"

Two answers: sadness and you.
Both comparable in more ways than one.
You are a million gallons of peppermint tea,
an avalanche of contaminated sunsets,
******* renditions of Gymnopédies.
Remember year 2009? I watched the moon with you.
You wanted to bathe in the half-priced rain shower
and I said sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really ******* sorry,
because I could do anything for you at that moment
but I didn't. I didn't.

The mind is not the heart--
Don't be fooled, my hideous darling gremlin of a self.
The mind. Is not. The. Heart.

And it never will be.

Pitter patter. I hear your calling in every rain drop.
I see your face in every expensive thing I can't afford:
that box of earl grey, those Japanese ******* tea cups--
But I can live with the loss of you.
I can live. I can live.
I am never alone anyway.