I miss you in words that don't exist,
the way the moon misses the sun,
and plants miss rain in a drought.

I miss you in feelings that I don't understand.
When I scan rooms I only search for your face,
but it's never there.

I miss your smile, like I miss warmth,
even when it's sunny I don't feel it on my skin.
Your absence leaves a void,
I just want to be whole again.

Ever since she left
I look around
and all I see
is this so called
"love"
the idea
of love, really

because love
is not willing to die
for someone
love,
is willing to live

love is not
willing to take that bullet for someone,
giving your life for theirs
no.
love
is willing to keep living
after they take that bullet for you

and that is the problem
with our society,
everyone is too eager to die
and not enough,
to live.

I stopped writing about you
That's when I knew I wanted it to be over.

My heart is unruly
And the key you keep will break its locks
No matter how they mould and change
But it is locked all the same.
The doors are closed
To impish jealousy and green eyes of mischief
To the stabbing knives of rejection
That fly in like butterflies, waiting for the sink of realisation.
To the pain of unknowing
A perpetual roller coaster without a harness
To the sweet agony of your peaks and lows.

Loving you is too hard.

I try to think of you as poison
To feed on feelings of heartache and injustice
But I know, in truth 
You are a tempest
Fraught with indecision and rage
You run deeper than an ocean
With limitless currents
That chop and change beyond your control 
Too frantic and complex for me to ever comprehend.

I can't put you in a box
Lock you away 
I can't make you the enemy 
I can't regret everything we've had
But I can't go on like this.

I need this to be over.