.

*If I were a poem
I’d ask you to fold me up
and put me in your pocket,
then at the end of the week,
toss me in the wash
with the rest of the clothes

And when you find me later,
smudged and smeared,
ripped and tattered into
little unrecognizable pieces,
don’t worry about it,
I was already like that

You been suicidal so long now,
that you forget what it feels like
to actually want to die.

I miss the laughing
I miss the talking
I miss the feelings
Which you woke in me...

I miss making memories
I miss the funny episodes
I miss hearing you talk
About all the things you love...

I keep trying to fool myself
That the one I miss
It isn't you
But no matter what my head says
Then my heart refuses to listen...

I miss your smile
I miss all the stupid things we used to do
I miss the time when I didn't cry
I miss just being with you....

I miss you being my weakness
I miss smiling like I used to
I miss when my worst sides
Comes out because of you...

My head tells me to move on
It tells me you aren't wroth it
But my heart disagrees
And it still won't listen...

I miss wondering about
How you even feel
I miss wanting to touch
I miss feeling surreal...

I miss the mess I became
When you used to be near
I miss the days out hate
When everything was unclear...

I miss not having to fool myself
Each and every day
Telling myself that my feelings
Was never even real...

I miss not having to force myself
To believe
That it's the other guy
Who I love
I hate the fact that I trick myself
To believe
That the one I miss
It isn't you...

I miss all the small things
I miss when your words sounded true
There's only this one thing I miss
And that is
You...

Don't just tell her that she's beautiful

Show her that she's beautiful

Make her feel beautiful