i will never love one the way i loved you.

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections

You are my unsent message.
The cursor blinking rhythmically,
With my heartbeat,
Waiting,
For me to hit send.
But I am not ready,
And I’m not sure if I ever will be
So I left it like that.
Unsent. Unseen. Unread.
“I miss you.”

i will love you
until i disappear into the ever growing darkness
yet it’s taking me over.
and soon i will not be able to love you