I only miss you when love isn’t around and when tenderness seem to fall apart. I only want you when sadness encounters me while I shower and water trickles down my back. The need is impossible, and it makes me restless. How can I exist while knowing you’re not fully mine, not truly? You still belong to someone else.
My heart is indeed torn to pieces, and my soul needs to achieve its extent of being. Every fiber is thirsty for your touch, knowing no one loves me like you do. Every touch is impeccable and daring. Everyone seems corrupted by the things they should be while they rot in lies, pretending to be happy but peace of mind is not their home. It’s nowhere near. It’s a ghost that haunts their everyday life.
We don’t share the full truth. No one does, and it seems like no one has enough forgiveness to understand the circumstances that led to those decisions. Everyone is deaf, blinded by ego, flustered, and emotionally unavailable. We blame and misunderstand with shut eyes and ears. Hate seems so much easier. It causes less trouble and less time spent on our own path to freedom.