OPENBOX

I’m tired of giving in to people who just give up.

Earnestly seeking something that others deem worthy of simply thinking of.

I’m sick of cold nights that feel warmer than your parting hug.

I’m sick of chilling breezes more welcoming than your last embrace.

I’m sick of counting strangers more caring than your “loving” gaze.

Earnestly thinking that who I am is the very essence and value you’re seeking.

I’m empty because you thought closing a gap would move the walls of your heart.

I’m empty because no distance was worth trust, no time traveled was worth thanks, and no effort given was worth record.

I’m empty because no value and no substance has worth as a placeholder.

Every breath I breathe is a reminder that the lines I’ve crossed cannot be uncrossed.

The path I have walked cannot be untrod. The life I have chosen cannot be returned like the clothes you continue to keep.

Memories of my life forever tainted by your picture, worn across your body, displayed in your life as if it cost you nothing.

Because it didn’t; it cost me everything.

These are words I won’t relax on even if there were a comeback.

These are the scars and the truths of the life I lived when you left for your own.

And, what has worth has a place all its own.

I’m tired of giving in to people who just give up.

what I desire most seems furthest away.

like the fading sunset of a fading photograph, I wonder how long this can last.

picture frames hold memories but rarely contain the feelings I want you to see.

so as long as you’re far away, I’ll keep building bridges to you.

I think about you often:

the warm candle blocking out cold blue skies.

the rain on my window after a snowy day.

the light in my darkness.

Love is: a vapor, an eternity, a fire, a mirror.

Love is: a picture, a frame, a moment