elisabeth

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. So medicine, law, business, engineering… these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love… these are what we stay alive for.”

My love, I miss you more than I can put into words. I still wish for you on every fallen eyelash. Evidently it’s not working but I guess it’s just one of those things that I can’t stop hoping will work. With all this love for you there exists another feeling. A wish, that I’d never met you. But I ache to kiss you at the same time. I hope and pray you’re okay and life is being kind to you. I hope your dreams and wishes are coming true. I wish that you’re happy. I can’t ever wish bad things on you no matter what you did to me or how you treated me. I still wish you’d given me a chance. I only wanted to love you. I do love you. But I wanted to share it with you. I just wanted to spend time with you. Didn’t matter where we were as long as I was with you. In simple words, I just wanted you. And I guess that was the problem, I wanted you more than you ever wanted me. I do think about all that I must have done that made you realize that you don’t want me in your life. Oh how I pray to do it all differently, be a little less clingy, less annoying. They all say it wasn’t my fault but I can’t help but think it was. I don’t think I’m ever going to stop loving you. It scares me, I’m not going to lie. But I just can’t stop loving or wanting you.

So I wake up every morning and you’re the first thing that crosses my mind. I make my coffee, mindlessly dreaming about your eyes because the brown matches your gorgeous eyes. I go about my entire day missing you more than I could put into words. I smoke and while I put the cigarette against my lips, how I ache for it to be your lips instead. I try to drink it away but all the alcohol does is bring out memories of you that I so desperately try not to think about. I try kissing someone new but it’s like I can’t kiss if it’s not you. I go to sleep, but you haunt me in my dreams, I’m haunted by how you don’t love me even in my dreams.

“And even though I called him the love of my life, others called him a wound that I’d scrape over and over and over again till it was crimson.”

We are sitting on your bed, there is distance between us and the silence is suffocating me. I am holding my knees to my chest. My body is shaking; you are quiet. I ask you if you still love me, and you tell me that you are not sure that you ever did.