Poetry is a mere flowing thought
when I first fell,
but now, loving you?
It's its special type of hell.

We love the same color,
do the same jokes;
we try hard for our passions
until our sanity broke.
We spoke loudly of interests,
listen intently on our friends,
but we're still **** in processing
our emotions at hand.
We're some times there,
we're some times not,
we some times leave each other out
that we basically rot.
We always run away,
we constantly hide
from this reality we promise
to fight alongside.

I know I'm not the best,
and that I'm too harsh on myself;
but your existence
shift me around to fight,
and change,
and survive,
so give me this time,
forgive me this time,
as I prove myself one last time,
not to anyone else in particular
but me, myself, and I.

I would like to say this however:

I miss you, every single day
I want to see you, every single day,
and no matter what happens,
whatever the circumstance
as we **** ourselves,
to change ourselves,
just to prove ourselves
in this lifetime,
I will choose you,
and only you,
every single day.

I will see you in the end,
be with you in the end,
but until then,
take care.