Our Venn diagram used to overlap heavily, But you have pulled it apart to the point It looks like a butterfly, With little core in common. Your rampant hedonism, My self authoritarianism, We barely know one another any more. And I miss you dearly mi amore.
You are angry Because it is true.
There is a hole in my life where you were That nothing else can fill. A dark, empty Void.
Frolic on the surface, Or dive into the depths? Below there be monsters and treasures, breathtaking and breath taking. Can you face the risk or must I dive alone?
You are the salt on my tongue, tiny slices, making me raw and enhancing the flavour of life.
We move our pieces around, The pre-set moves constraining. As we play your game, removing pawns from the board, eliminating choices and options until you are in checkmate, Cornered. Angry. Lost.
The moon on the snow As bright as your eyes, and yet As cold as your heart.
You touched my soul. But you touched their bodies.
That could have been me. Slinging drinks and writing lines until dawn crept over me. You saved me. And then you destroyed me, so I sit here writing lines in the night.
No. Such a simple word, and so powerful. And yet no one is willing to tell you it, and so you run wild like a child. No.