You are inside me,
you are outside me,
you are me
you are, the stone upon which I trip,
the ground upon which I fall,

You are always with me,
no matter the time of day,
no matter the place.

It seems you are closer than the best of friends,
for you are the inspiration for the creative,
whether it be the heartache of Dante or the depression of Mark Twain.

I have given all I ever could,
I can give no more,
even mine life would not be enough,
mine possessions are worthless in this chase,
my words but hinder hers,
my thoughts cannot last but a moment without her,
my life has no meaning but her,

Her existence to mine heart is proof of the heavens,
Proof of angels,
and even proof of her,
she is a walking reminder that life is a test.

The test, infinitely cruel is to face than any is to resist her,
even when her scent is a trail of  enchantment,
even when her face is so close to mine,
even when she uses me in manner to complex for this childish mind to understand.

I am but a fool in comparison with such an angelic life,
and it matters not that she smokes and drinks,
it matters not that she is entrenched in her insecurity,
it matters not that she turns to substance as if it were a solution to all meddlesome thoughts and  reality,

she is still perfect in all her flaws,
in a manner no words or brushstrokes could ever do justice,
her perfection is in the smallest to greatest thing,
her actions always so infuriating with a sense of calm.

Even her slaps are but a gift,
her fights and anger so amusing,
her frustration creates a face more beautifully maddening than I may ever know,

Her madness she cannot accept,
no matter how her being is brimming with it,
her reasoning is not reason but madness.

It is as if she is a reflection of my lunacy,
a girl who so perfectly encapsulates what I desire,
it seems to be that god wishes me behold her,
so he could tell me I would never have her,
although I tell myself I cannot have her,
and if god is the true encapsulation of mercy I may even have her,
but I think not.

Her mind is sharp but not sharp enough,
for distractions are many and focus she does not have,
but that may be it her will or wish to succeed it is but second to the reality created within the enigma that is her mind , encrypted within its vault of freedom,
a vault which encapsulates her being,
her deepest desire and lust.

I have lost the sight of your yawns as they lengthen into sleep,
the smell of your skin when it is clean but free from cologne has lost me,

I have forgotten what it feels like to kiss you and see galaxies,
or feel bursts of energy, warmth and tragedy all at once, every time,
I have lost the rush in my bones reminding me that you were mine.

I tried to recreate the constellations your freckles used to make,
but I laid awake and could not see a single star.

That thought used to make me cower, even in my sleep,
and wither in my hollowed wake, but today I do not ache,
not even for you.

A point came where I could not feel at all but pain
But now I do not hurt at all.
This feeling is unfamiliar.
Foreign winds have replaced old currents that settled in one path too strong, and left me cold,
but they are now gone.

I had forgotten what it felt like to not be petrified of apathy,
to not be scared of forgetting the first night you took my body,
believe me, I thought I would never breathe the feeling of discovery again
after months of trying to replace the rushing feeling of breath on my skin,

But I tried tonight to recall details of those encounters,
the ones where you took my soul and I was not sure if I would get it back,

and I could not bring life to any of the memories I one time
feared would never die,

I have waited for this day and now I can finally say it.
healing from heartbreak
is more of a purge, a surge of emotions you cannot differentiate from real or fake as they take over your body,
and there I was, losing it all at once,
and I was left open on a stranger's bed, begging for a minute where
you did not fill my head,
appeasing to God for a day in which my heart did not bend at the thought of never experiencing a rushing heartbeat
without having to take off my clothes
again.

I was willing to give up anything for goosebumps on my skin,
anything to remind me that I was a human,
without you.

But I did it and I want you to know that,
I hope one day you see it because I finally truly feel it.

I do not love you anymore.
or miss you anymore,
I do not think of you when I think of love or *** or adventure anymore,
I do not see you when I picture late July days and sandy toes and sweaty palms from holding on too long,

my heart is free for the taking and I want you to know that,
though you will not care or look for me somehow,
I do not want you back anymore and I wish you could see me now,

What is mine love,
is it but a curse,
a thing to haunt me forever,
for no matter how far I go it will be just around the corner,
love shall in mine mind be if her in the west and mine family east,
but mine love for her shall haunt me,
whilst mine love of family shall console me; a blessing.

Past the alps,
born there was a girl.
Fate chose her parents divorce,
so past the alps she went,
and actress she became.

Met she there a player of tennis,
work hard he did.
For fate too chose divorce,
upon his parents.
So work harder he did.

From beyond the sea,
there came a boy.
There he loved,
loved he was not in return.
So a poet he became.

The girl ruled the red carpet,
the player ruled the court;
and the broken boy ruled minds with words simple.

You are beautiful,
beyond what you could know,
with that smiling face,
those beaming eyes,
seemingly glinting under the moonlight,
or I wish they were
for your marvel is comparable to the night sky,
for in and under the moonlight I wish you lay with me,
the quintessence of beauty,
you under the moonlight.

I love you,
I do not know how,
or even when,
or why.

But I love you,
even if it may hurt me,
I still do.

It may hurt you,
but I do not know how to stop,
but neither can I see you in pain.

My love has taken me afar,
I no longer know where I am,
for I am lost and not a beacon in sight.