I remember your eyes the most.
It's so cliche. The eyes being the window to the soul,
eyes showing what you try to hide,
eyes are
what often give people away when they lie
you technically never lied to me.

but it almost makes me even more heart wrenchingly distressed when I come to the realization that
that was because you never made me any deep promises to begin with.
which, would have been sweeter
I already know, the pain more bitter, in the end,
But I think that I would hurt
for you.

I know I would
, because I've done it before.
and you know it too, Because we both were...into it.
I remember sitting in the Driver's seat kissing you, feeling so good to enjoy kissing someone again, feeling their hair, the feeling of lips to lips, lips to your neck and
nipping
around the collar bones

you looked at me like I was real.
and by that, I mean when we made
and
held eye contact,
I simply adored the assertiveness
I loved looking at
you.

sometimes,
in the grey mattered
shredded dawn
when the sky is wrecking havoc on these poor, addicted, hungry, castaway *******
it will sound crazy.

It really
will
I swear it to you

But I wonder if because I was so perpetually infatuated with your
entire
thing

maybe we somehow share telepathic thoughts,
like twins,
and you can tell that I'm thinking about you.

It's raining.

I'm not poor,
I plead the fifth as far as addicted goes
hungry?
this is a poem, I guess I'm hungry for.... the thrill of being attracted and enthralled with another human soul?
wow.

Anyway....
It's raining.
I wish you'd text me. I wish I'd hear from you. I wish things were,
different.

You touched a part of me that I don't think I can ever scrub off.
and what I'm hungry for, is more of that.
And I know you'd know what I mean.

God.
I'm so helpless.