It hurts more that in the time I am away, you question if I am worth it.

I am not enough. This heart is not enough. We are not enough. What I give you is not enough.

This heart that stayed up until the sun rose and watched you sleep is not enough.
These hands that have written you love letters almost everyday for four months is not enough.
These arms that embrace you, this mouth that tastes you, these eyes that search for you, these palms that feel you, these smiles I bear you, this time I spend with you.
Is
Not
Enough.

I use to question why I was so lucky to find such a true find worth loving. Someone worth losing for a short time just to find again. Now I question how someone can easily just rip a band-aid from a wound that was nearly closed, stitches nearly cinched.

What do I matter when everything I love I lose.
Staring at me.
No situation that can be taken lightly.
Teary-eyed as I walk away.
I will never let you see me cry.

You are not enough.