I still love you so much it hurts.
My chest aches like my heart is being torn apart with each beat.
It's been six years and your name still scares the hell out of me.
It's been six years and I'd still drop my world to live in yours.
I try to say I hate you and all that comes out is
"I love you"
I try to blame you for this pain and these fractures and it falls out,
"I love you"
I try to forget you and my heart beats out an irregular beat,
"I love you"
Your name is a curse and a question and an accusation and a promise all in one syllable.
Your name, one I never knew I'd spend so much time caring about or waiting to hear or thinking over and over in my head.
Now look at me.
Pitiful.
Sad.
Twenty two and still loving you.
Wanting you.
Needing you.
Twenty two and not a day past sixteen.
Heartbroken and wrecked and all I can say through the tears and the pain is I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I don't say it enough. I never did.
I love you.
I say it too much.
I love you.
I don't want to.
I love you.
A space for me to empty my brain of all the poems, letters, and half-finished stories that swirl around in my head all day.
Sunday, May 14, 2017
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