i write.

i write when i miss you. i wrote when i had you. i've never stopped writing. i can't. i just know i need you.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

you still ask "why are you so nice to me"

i still respond "because i love you" - but i know the words never make it out.

instead a sad smile erupts, bringing my teeth together like a prison cell,

3. simple. words.

innocent and pleading for freedom.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

I have not prayed in ages

but dear god have I pleaded to someone or something to call you mine again

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

i don't know how long writing can substitute the knowledge of what it's like to be desired by you

words leave me effortlessly, but will never fit the lines of a page as perfectly as the way you melt into the crook of my neck

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

it has become so hard to write.

the pages i filled, filled the hole you left

but being by your side again mended that 1 hallow grave and created 8 new ones.

i can no longer fill pages to fill holes when i don't know whose perspective i'm writing from anymore.

the person i lay next to, the person i turn my ringer on for, the person who fixes my sleep schedule just by existing in the day;

is not the person who dug the first hole.

i still don't know who that was.

i still don't know why we ended.

i still don't know anything except how to love you.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

i gave you every piece of me that mattered.

you never chipped away at my facade,

because of that, i am now just an empty shell of the person you met.

there's something so dangerous about navigating this world seemingly untouched with nothing left to give.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

when you said i was dumb to believe anything you said after months of no change,

i felt so sorry for how scared and cornered the confrontation must have made you feel to act so vile.

i failed to realize your words finally matched your actions.

i thought all i ever wanted was the truth, but i guess i just needed you to be a better liar.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

i am not real.

at least the person i've created isn't.

everyone in my life loves and praises the person they see.

so why did the one person i let in and bare my existence to, choose to leave?

maybe i don't know who the real person is anymore, but i'm terrified she does.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

you don't owe me your time or body, but you offer it fervently.

i will always accept what you give, reluctantly and instantly, knowing i can't be without you - nor can i be with you.

but i need all of you. i want all of you. i will tell you our time between the sheets doesn't have to change anything, but it will always have to mean something.

i can't give you all i want to, but you can take anything you need.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

the last time we lay here, stuck in a competition of who loves who more, you'd kiss my cheek over and over so tenderly.

so much has changed, but i lay here again, accepting your tender love, hoping its burn will fade and the gentleness will come creeping back in.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

i wish we kept our time together as the action filled adventures they begun as.

i wish i didn't know how it feels to unload the groceries side by side.

i wish i didn't know what it was like to go to bed at 8pm with you.

i wish i didn't know which of your 3 alarms wakes you up for work.

it would be so much easier to not sit here and spend every second imagining a life with you, if i didn't know how much i loved waiting for you to come home.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

every second of my day belongs to hope filled thoughts of you, of us.

but it is no longer debilitating, it is not overwhelming, there is no pain.

it feels natural, as if i knew how to love you the way i knew how to breathe.

you may not be mine, but i will always be yours, until my last breath.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

my only regret in life is making you question if i knew you loved me.

our last conversation was one for the books, books that can only be found in the library of Alexandria.

because that was not us. that's never who you were to me.

and Caesar himself would have to re-torch the great archives to keep me from rewriting a book never meant for the shelf.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

i wanted to believe we were the moon and the stars so badly.

but i was the sun.

burning too intensely with love for my moon that we could only exist in the same sky for moments at a time before you needed space.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

you said i must go back to the city with you: it's not the same without me.

get two tickets to see the artist we met at: it's tradition.

our time was cut short though, we don't have enough history to set claim to tradition.

but i'll sit here with a silent smile, knowing that "for old times sake", carefully hides a spark begging to be a flame.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

i stopped responding to people, i use one worded answers when i do.

i used to be able to talk about everything and nothing with anyone, but there's no energy or space left in my mind that isn't being spent on you.

you are the tracks to my train of thought and i have been derailed for too long.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

despite what others made you feel, i told you time and time again:

its not hard to love you, its impossible not to.

and i guess that's what makes it impossible to leave.

i love you beyond reason and i wont go unless i'm asked, but- i promise, even through that moment, i will spend every second of our time showing you you're worth more than you've been given.

[i-wish-you-could-read-this]

you punctuate me;

maybe that's why my calendar still says february 6th.

no time has passed, my day hasn't ended, i haven't stopped drinking, i haven't slept -

there's no end to my actions, there's no consequences to face, there' nothing that follows anything anymore.

so how do i end the chapter if i can't finish a sentence?

---

i'll let my mind run-off, in this run-on, in hopes that my punctuation finds me before all my pages are gone.