I didn't know how to breathe without your hand in mine, voice in my ear, finger drumming on my thigh. So lonely in this passenger seat, 3 feet away, I can still feel your heat, you were suns and lava constricted in human skin.
And for that? I am sorry.
I tried to paint your voice once, but I settled for your eyes, I couldn't even put you into colors do you know the insanity of that? I've painted bruises and lips bitten by lovers, but the color of your eyes? Never to be captured on paper.
And for that? I am sorry.
I've captured these moments behind my eyelids, they flash when it's 3 am, I'm cold, shivering in this bed. You have your jaw clenched and your hands are clenched into steel. These are the moments I cherish, you're lava, slowly burning away, I was a volcano, erupting at the tiniest tremor.
And for that? I am sorry.
I fell in love with you.
And for that? I am sorry.