I reached out to you
You never replied
I could never reach you
Though i tried
To save this as a memory
In the category of good
Could this be an allegory
Of what should happen would?
I lied to my family and friends
And said you contacted me
I didnt want their pity
I just don't want that to be our end

"there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it’s too late
and there’s nothing worse
than
too late."

I begged you to stay but you left me for another lover. That night i felt more lonesome than alone. More pain than emptiness. Most sorrow than surviving the departed. It was not the last time, not nearly or by far, that you left me heart in hand and a broken man. You always come back to me and all is understood. You love me more than them. But this time I've been waiting five years for your call. I'm not lonely at all. Not sad or in agony because i know you. I know you want me and i know youll come when you're ready to be loved again.

I can't find a single picture of you. I often think if i had a gun idve done it long ago. I destroyed that computer, the one with all the photos. I already killed all my memories. All that remains are bare emotions. Words. I'm dying. Greener. Sam. Kings. There were so many nights that would be the end if i had a gun. There is nothing preventing it. Only hinderances like pain, fear and a bloody mess but that could all be solved with the perfect weapon of my destruction. Until the day that i perish i live as though i have inside for i have and I've nothing to live for. I traded my lust for a rush. A fix and now i hurt as without even with.

This friendship is broken and remains are smoking like wreckage. I remember when you thought you found god. For sure, i thought, the irony was not lost on me. It was too late, maybe, to imagine us together, relatively stable. I swear I'll feel brave someday, just not yet.

I was supposed to be beautiful. Something was lost to me in the vast whiteness that surprised me. Like a star lost to the light of the sun, innocence and optemism disappeared in the presence of real love. And once the sun set on that love the star could not be recovered among the millions of others. Innocence becomes experience becomes chastity and an unability to love again. An unwillingness to be hopeful for the future becomes rooted in an emotional attatchment to the past, lonesome for what its lost.

There is nothing worse than meaning nothing to the person who means everything to you. When they're the first thought when you wake up and the last before you fall asleep. Often they show up in your dreams. I know thats a clique but its true to me.