I started missing you early on.
I started missing you while I was still with you.
I missed you while I was sitting across from you
while your grin still lit up my heart.
I missed you while your mouth was on me
with your tongue sending me into a spiral.
I started missing you when I realized we wouldn't last.
I started letting you go before I left you.
I tried to pretend that that wasn't the case,
I tried to stay oblivious.
I should have left you the first time.
I could have left you the first time,
if I had just let myself face it.
If I had faced the fact that you would only warm my bed for a small portion of my life.
But I stayed long enough for you to latch on
and begin building a home inside of my heart.
It wasn't fair to either of us;
I should have let you go the moment I started missing you,
but I'm a hopeful dreamer.
My kindness in the end hurt us more than it could have.
But I still don't know what that means.
Does that mean I should give up the second I'm unsure?
That jaded lifestyle will leave me lonely.
But I don't want to stay long enough to let it fester,
for my heart to commit another naive suicide.
Your presence may seem a cruel one for life to inflict on me,
but life isn't supposed to be easy.

You ignited a fire in me;
A hungry desire to do better;
One that was seemingly waiting to be lit.

I've learned so much.
You've helped me put things together,
and to find some pieces.
I curse life for breaking my heart like that
But I beg it to do whatever it needs to do
If I need to break
Hundreds of times
To become who it is I want to be
Then so be it
Life should not be bland
I should experience everything there is to
I feel like it's debatable on whether I can survive this
Like if I have to face it again I won't be able to
But I can
And I will
I will grow and become stronger
Though it will ******* me still
Sooner or later I'll begin to know
What to give and what to leave to fate
Though you seem big right now
In comparison to the picture life will paint for me
You are but a small part
To a large masterpiece

I am just telling you
"Love is not always enough for having everything"
I was as naive as you too .
But this world isn't.

Yellow and white,
deep ultraviolet.
Wind tossed around,
carried in a fragile hand.
The outskirts lined with beauty,
the middle a land of decay.
Walking through land that
seen childhood play.
Shaky hand reaching to pluck
the ones that scream yuck.
He loves me,
he loves me not.
Until reach the ovule,
try to tear but would not budge.
Maybe grandmother will heal
with undying love.