The truth is that I'm scared that I'll come home one day
And find you gone
No note
No letter
No trace
No goodbye
Like you were just a hallucination
That lasted for 13 months

The truth is that I liked that girl
Because she looked like you
Talked like you
Thought like you
Cursed like you
Laughed like you
Only a lot less passionate
And she is not you.

Because I have trudged through this Earth until I found you
And now I stride with purpose
Because I thought the sky is either blue or grey because it is sad
Now I know that it's simply Rayleigh scattering
Which has nothing to do with our lives
Because I saw, in the mirror, a sad someone who deserved misery
Now I see a smile that reflects in my eyes

I don't want to lose you.

You are having 4 AM breakfast with the girl of your dreams sitting a few meters away from you. You glance at her, intently focused on her paper, crumpling her forehead in frustration, and you realize that she is real. Real, with her stupid brown hair, and her impish smile; her eyebrows, arching up to look at you. Yes, she is not the girl of your life dreams. She is the girl that haunts the blissful world of your rest - she is the girl of your sleep dreams.

You're all the suffering I long to endure and I swear by your deep brown eyes that I'm going to try my best to make it through you because it is you I remember when I'm walking down these paved roads with streaking strange faces and I miss you really because I wanted to kiss you when you tucked my stupid note on your nostalgia corkboard and looked at me like I was all that matters but you did not come home and I hope you're not in trouble or hungry and I was supposed to see you because it's a Thursday but apparently the Universe does not feel a need to consistent today except with me still longing to kiss you and you still not being aware.

The desolate terrain
Of yellowing book paper that was once pristine
Of blood, sweat, tears, and innumerable cups of coffee
Is sad and lonely.

Yet I can only hope
That I will be enough
To stay here.

Truth, they are all dusty.
But they are the best.

Baby, I hope you realize

*You could have it so much better