love looks different now
it is overgrown
and tiny goodbye kisses enough to save a singular feeling of necessity but lacking the passion I crave so badly

this isn’t what I had imagined
going to bed alone each night
and waking up to goodbyes.

will it be like this forever?
making silly plans for our silly life together
never quite feeling like we’re doing enough

never quite feeling like I’m enough

and feeling guilty because I’ll never get quite enough

there’s not enough intimacy or romantic gestures or cuddles in the gloomy hours to fill me up

my glass is never overflowing
it’s always half empty or shattered on the floor.