Dear Handsome,
It's me the self saboteur.
I love you and want you to stay
Because my heart felt home in your presence again.
Those cheekbones and curls get me every time. Make me weak in my **** knees. Your quiet bravado gets my attention and the swirl on your skin keeps it. I've told everyone but you, let me serenade us into oblivion.

I wanted to believe you when you said you wanted me. I've turned my mistakes into a life sentence, please know my actions were never out of malice. I'll love you deeply at the distance of your choosing. Thank you for every minute because I've loved you and you with it. Oh the bravery it takes to show up when you only know how to run. A current of passion I couldn't keep up with. This rice paper library expands and contracts, shaking my wooden heart from its rest.

I've wanted to be your person for decades. This tarot love translates as me being too much or not enough, never just right.
My anxiety still crafts tales about why you waited to reel me back in but didn't stick around. Throwing blame like confetti this beast comes back and it's always hungrier once you've left. Convincing me this daydream is the only way forward. I wish this love had the room to grow it deserves, not this quantum entanglement.

You've proven I'm best on paper as an examined interpretation. Under your microscope, come in, look close, and focus well. Dissect me further as you see fit.
The engine of your absence haunts me still. Infinite and anxious, shedding one painful scale at a time. Cheers to these feelings that don't leave me alone and this heart that loves to break.

You want to settle down anywhere but here and it kills me. I remember dancing in the rain before you left, after I finally came back. These days you dance with strangers, too busy to say hello while loving the world without me. Your voice and silhouette are just out of reach, baptizing my chapters with chance encounters.

I thought we were books on the same **** shelf. A treasure map of clues to piece our picture back together. Our recalescence is waiting behind every apology I have. All the things I wanted to say but didn't. The mixed tapes you'll never hear, the poems you'll never see. The eternity I waited just to stumble again. A novel of drafts becoming old fibers worn thin. They can't help but unravel you with me. An infinity of trees; ring, after ring, after ring..