I write you poems in my head, knowing you’ll never hear them
My heart – your heart, it rhymes in a way that I can’t comprehend
These words were not learned, they were felt and
when you decided you could no longer listen, I cried.
Like a hurricane in July – madness.
I could not eat – my stomach was full of dying butterflies.
Each memory a razor sharp wing tearing apart my being but
I couldn’t stand to let go.
I could not sleep, my dreams brought forth all of my fears and
even when I knew it hurt
my eyes ached to see the sun in your hair.