"my poem was meant to you but something happened along the way. i wish to hold you in my arms but that burned in the fire along with everything i have to remind myself of you. how my heart hurt because of our seperation. but, oh how much better i feel now that my longing of you is gone..."
looking back at what i wrote makes me weep. how i keep lying to myself. how i wish that if i keep hurting myself i will see you again. you have seen my anger, my hurt, my pain. heard me cry. held me when i needed you the most. but not now. what happened? what made this not go as planned? why the hell aren't you here? i ******** want you here!
i want to feel your body lying next to mine. i want to hear your heartbeat. i want to smell you, your musk. no matter how much i hurt, you're not here. this is ******** up. its ******** up. i want your arms around me, safe from the world outside.
i wear makeup to show the world that i'm in permanent mourning of my loss of you. my arms show the battle wounds of my war over you. how i wish it was March again. where we were so carefree. youthful. such vigor. but now we are older, wiser, knowledgeable. but i wish for the past. i wish for you. you are in my dreams, my black swan, but not in my life...
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