They say the grass isn’t greener on the other side
but it has been raining for 3 months straight and
it looks dew blessed to me

sometimes staring at you through windowpane hurts
like there is something in the way the glass glares
in this seemingly ever beating sun

one day you will leave me,
this I know already.
I am already preparing myself for the inevitable to happen.

Hurts my soul and sets my organs on a slow burning roast
acid washing my heart and
pinpricks in my jugular

I try to see you in the darkness
in the light
in the way your brow crunches when you think
in the scar on your dimple.

I tell myself you do not love me like I love you,
regardless of if that is true.