I miss you.
I've missed you every day.
I wish you weren't so stupid.
I wish I wasn't so dumb.
I wish we could be happy.
I wish you were still my fork.

the rough texture on his fingers
from putting his soul into his art
his guitar, all black and shiny
a piece of art alone, extra special when he plays it
the warmth of his palm
i trace the lines that cover it
making an 'A' on the center
i clasp my hand, interlacing our fingers
rubbing my thumb against his
i kiss him
nothing makes me happier
than the simple feeling
of his hand

The clocks have never
worked in our favour,
maybe I must accept
we'll always be bad timing.

I'm not sure
if I was going to to see the band
or to see you.

I know you cared for me
and I'll never understand
why I deserved someone like you,
but what's even harder
to comprehend is how
you could touch me
and look at me like that
and then throw what we had away.

When I first met you I thought
you were too good to be true,
Now I'm beginning to think
I imagined you all along.

What hurts the most
is not the thought that
maybe I wasn't good enough,
instead it's that for you,
maybe somebody else was.

I fell in love and my soul grew wildflowers.
Purples, pinks, blues, and yellows;
They grew from top to toe, smelling sweetly.
The sun shown brightly from the pupils of my eyes.
The grass was green and fresh and soft.

There was no storm in sight.

Not until later when seasons changed and the wind began to grow cold.
The flowers of my soul began to wilt and harden at the hateful autumn touch.

Then the snow fell. The first snow of my only winter.

The grass had turned brown and dark intimidating clouds blocked out any light.
The beautiful flowers that once gave me life, have died in the cold storm he left.
I fell in love once and it left me with nothing but a cold, dead heart.