What you are feeling is not love
Love is not this envy coursing through your veins turning your skin green.
No,
Love is the skeletons that climbed out your closet, content with being seen
It’s A Still of the best moments  
Still alive when she’s dead
Still, in a hurricane of emotions, that reside in your head

Love is not her hair, her *******, soft lips or strawberry scent
Not the contour of her body;
It's porcelain touch
Nor the way her voice fades at the end of a sentence
Instead, it’s in the absence
In the things you can’t sense, but still feel
In The parts of her that are least physical but most real

Love is not the way fears became a blindfold
That hid you from the Truth
Torn from a blanket of jealousy
Covering you up,
Keeping you bitter

Rather,
Love is the tear-stains on your jacket shoulder
The warm embrace
The eye of the storm.
She kept that jacket
And Maybe
Just Maybe
She’s wrapped herself in it
And realized that:
Love is the only reason you didn’t want to leave her
And the exact reason
Why you did