I think
The fact that I haven't
Written a poem
In nearly two weeks
Is causing me
To lose touch
With reality.

Reality
It's a funny word, isn't it?
REAL-EH-TEE
Real
But I lost sense
Of what was real
The same day I lost you
But let's not talk
About you
I'm sick of writing
About you
I'm fed up
With every one of my ******* poems
Including the word
YOU
Maybe that's why I stopped writing!
Yes
You were in my life enough
And I got sick
Of putting you in my poetry
My heart
Yes

So you see
I've lost track now, haven't I?
I was on about
Losing reality
And then…
Oh never mind that
I just…
I lost what was real
The same day I lost my sanity
And it's been
So long now
That I'm not sure
I'll ever get it back

But there was a question
Yes
How do I know
That I'm losing touch with reality
When I haven't known what was real
In such a long time?
Good question.
It's just a
Feeling
I suppose
The only thing humans
Were ever really capable of is
Feeling
The only thing that is
Real
To people
I guess
Because emotions
Often feel more logical than logic
Even when I act on them
Illogically

Or…
Does that not make sense?
I can never be sure
My pencil always races
Faster than my brain can dash
My thoughts forgot
How to run
After you stopped being my coach
Yes
You pushed me
To work harder
Be better
So what happened?
What happened to make you leave?
Why did you…
Why did YOU
**** “you”
I can't stand that word!
Why can't YOU
Leave my mind?!
Leave my paper?!
Leave my poems!
Just leave it blank!
Instead of writing this wretched word
Over and over
Y-O-U
Maybe I'll just leave it blank!

Is it worth losing myself?
To leave the pages empty?
Is it worth losing my real-eh-tee?
Because
I haven't written a poem
In nearly two weeks
And it feels like
I'm going numb
Because
The only real thing I had left
Were my feelings
And now
They seem to be melting away
All the same
As my ability
To write
A real
Poem.

I know his body is tired  and his hair is grey with the weight of time and knowledge
but I want to ask him to stay
I want to run my hands through his hair a little longer
because he looks as innocent as his name

I want to ask him not to leave me yet
But I know he's not mine, I knew from the moment I met him that he's only here for a certain amount of time

I want to hold back the tears as I look at him in the eyes
He's too good, too kind and I know it's almost time for him to go

I hope he knows that I loved him until the very last second
until his eyes couldn't focus on a thing anymore
until the moment where his heart gave up on him
until the last beep of that **** machine

I hope he's some kind of proud
I hope he once loved me too