I love you.

And as many times as it’s almost come out of my mouth, attached to a “good night"or a “good morning…have a good day,” it doesn’t get past my lips.

A couple of times, I thought that maybe in the midst of my sleep I had mumbled it to you…and that maybe you heard my quiet confession. But you’ve never let on.
And you should know. By now you should know.

You love not with your heart but with your soul.

The song we once loved now a funeral song.
The sweater you used to wear when it was cold can no longer keep you warm.
The last voicemail I left just a cry for help that will never be heard.
The words I needed to say are locked in a safe that no one knows the combination too.
This feeling of regret drowns me like the time my father threw me in the pool to teach me how to swim.
The taste of coffee on my lips can never rid the taste of your mouth.
My heart is beating in a monotone tempo. It doesn't skip beats anymore.
My stomach only handles nothing.
My body feels less and less everyday.
The empty bottles are speaking for themselves.
I don't want to live like this.
I don't want to live at all.

You were love uncompromised, unadulterated,
You were the purest expression of the drug,
Before I tasted death on my tongue,
And before my heart learned despair,
Before inhibitions and walls were erected
Making love a feat as difficult as trying to go a day without flashbacks of us holding each other as if nothing else had ever made more sense than this moment right here

I'm not perfect truth be told, like the bond that lovers hold, and even though I'm not alone, lonesomeness I've come to know, I find myself longing for, something else something more, momentarily in need, of a quiet place to be, where all those pretty flowers grow, I will decide to let you go, in the midst of mix emotions, I find  myself beneath the ocean, sunken like my heart again, regretting every word I said, what we had was worth it all, every single trip and fall, I hope one day you'll understand, I gave it everything I had, then flawlessly forgot to care, about the past in which I stare,