Your in your room, sitting on the floor, blocking the door so no one bothers you. You have your phone in your hand hoping and wishing he would call or text. Makeup runs down your face from all the tears. In your head you replay all of the memories and fun times but mostly there last conversation. You wishe you said things differently then you did. You think to yourself, I'll never get him back.

Birds in High Sierras Reign
Calling Winters Heart
No Blame
Living Lifted Loving Free
This Stair that Rose
Behind that Tree

Lovers Carved Theirs Names
In Trust
With Vows of Care.
And Nights of Lust

Its Up the Stairs  
Past Lights Well Known
To Seek Hearts Mysteries
Beyond What's Grown

New Dreams
Öv Ancient Wisdoms Z.  
Past X and Y
Now Joined as Three

In tThanks we turn
With Mountains Share
Best Wishe is Friend
Be Blessed All Care

I am your addiction
Your poison
Your hell fire
I am the reason
You cry in the night

I asked you for peace
But you just dont stop talking
I think i am mad
Please leave me alone

You drive me to distraction

Stories of love
That im not even thinking
Wishe's for a life that is not my own
Distant shores beckon
Will i explore them
You know that i wont
So please leave me alone

I am your drug
I won't release you
What would you be
If i left you alone

dark and darker:“my old friend”

another crack’d faint appearing, in the destruction of us,
this one of the unconscious variety, added to the angle of
my leaning tower

how we used to compete in a morning ritual of who loves
the other more, a morning game as I departed, employing
terms of trillions, googolplex, infinity and ridiculous measures
such as the Big Bang; the game now over a year or more,
the text messages just  another long forgot: and I no longer
write love poems in buses and taxis

the cracks lengthen and laugh; a mocking screech of me
and my capabilities of denying, refusing ‘that’ conversation,
one day the noise will make my hands gone from eye coverings of see-no-evil to hearing it too loud, too clarity clear

but then she slips up and wishe me a goodbye, calling me out
“my old friend”

incision unconscious
for she cannot recollect it
two days later

but I can

it is a huge cut upon my chest
where open heart surgery is
currently underway

my ny heart is a transplant candidate
its replacement, a hardy artificial utility that has no capability
to ferry love beyond mine own borders

she only cut my hair but did not stop there

and reminds me again of:
the pain dance of wreck and ruin, destruction and death


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1518614/f-f-1stmost/