I'll give you everything,
until I become nothing-
only a shadow.

                                                               ­              the former winces
                                                          ­                   the tip-toeing, and the
                                                             ­                platitudes, loathsome.

Waiting with baited-
breath. For different results
than the binary.

                                                        ­                     no expectations.
                                                                ­             that's what you like
                                                                ­             about it.
                                                                ­             none of the drama.

Unfortunately,
the answer is always null.
Just like me to you.

                                                           ­                   *in all honesty,
                                                        ­                      I can't apologize for
                                                                ­              being the real me.

rain clouds, torrential downpours of thunder, lightning & madness, sadness & tears, betrayal and despair, whirling within me eternally until someone can be there to die down the storms and make the sunshine and brightness come back into my life again.

when you can only count on ghosts
you get desperate enough to reach out
and tear the fabric to bits

I find you in hidden places
Woven inside me
Like the stitches of a quilt
I am not whole without your memory
Incomplete with what you left
I have built myself around your absence
But you remain.

this heartbreak isn't textbook. it isn't like those movies, or those books, or anyone's anything. bracing yourself for impact is an impossibility. nothing - and listen to me when I say nothing - can prepare you for this pain. you begin to miss everything. everything you thought you'd never miss: his obnoxious little brother and his father playing guitar too loud and the way his mother said the word "vegetables" and never having enough room to sleep. now I don't think I could get close enough to you if I tired. the closest I am getting to you these days is when your sign is next to my sign in a horoscope. and I know you don't believe in those but this is the only hope I have left. the barnum statements of romance hold no weight until I am told that we are perfect for each other. do you believe in alternate universes? maybe in another world we are happy together, eating popsicles and sharing sticky kisses. the truth is this poem is wearing on me. I'm tired of discussing the possibility of there being another you and another me together happy on a somewhere else far away. I am tired of writing the I miss you poem. I am tired.

note: I will continue to write the I miss you poem until my fingers break.

I wish I could put into words
The way I still reach for you
In my sleep