D: Waiting by the phone

I am
hurting
so much inside
trying to sleep
but remembering
the first time
I saw your face,
how much
and
how far
I fell for you,
missing how
your body feels
next to mine.
Weight pushing
down
on
me
feeling as though
all the
butterflies
in my stomach
I had when
I first met you
are
slowly
dying
one
by
one.
Fighting
back the tears
to cry
for them
and
the emptiness
they are leaving.
I look
at the rose
you bought me
and
the petals
on the floor
and
the bowed dried-up head,
its attempt
in stale water
to stay alive
and
I am reminded of us.
Us trying to stop
the petals of
our relationship
from falling
whilst fighting
the stagnant water
of the past.
Feeling so far away
so helpless.
Pictures scattered,
throughout the mess,
of your face
smiling
and
desperate
to see it
smile to see
me
and
tell
me
it will all
be ok
but
the knowledge
and
the feeling
that
it is too late
and
that I will
never see
that image again.
Images
of all the
destruction
that will come
when they all
will go
and
all the
words
you wrote
are
locked away
like I
will have to
with
my feelings
for you.
Hide them away
with
all the pain
and
just cope.
Happiness
like you
seems
and is
so far off
in my world.
A world where
my only solace
has a memory
of you
attached.
But
I
cannot
cry,
my pain wants to.
Coping
day to day
is harder
unsure
of what
my future holds
wanting to
hide myself away
in a black room
time
standing still
and
instantaneous
until
your final decision.
Hopelessly staring
at my phone
till two
in the morning
hoping you will have
a revelation
and
just tell me
your heart
is mine
like
my heart
will be
forever yours.
Dreading
the possibility
that someone else
is
sharing your bed
and
he is loving
you
your body
and
mind
is his.
Using your lighter
to
ignite
your words
"always and forever"
and
seeing them
burn
the cigarette
down
with
every
inhaled
breath.
Wanting the clutter
to
fill up my room
till
it is dark
and
pushing
down
on
me,
or wishing
this very cigarette
would
burn black
smoke
covering me
in darkness
and
force me to cry
with
the itching blindness.
Wanting
to curl up
in your breast
and
cover
my pain.
To be six inches tall
and
emersed
in the warmth
and
beauty of
you.
Wanting
that angel
to wrap her
perfumed wings
around me
and
fly me
to
a happier place
outside
my heart.
I pour some
southern comfort,
open the window,
turn on the fan
and
burn
your
words
again.
Wishing
you
would phone me
mid-cigarette
and
stop
them turning
into ash.
But you won't
they will just
burn away.
Badly Drawn Boy
playing in my ears:

"Remebering when
I saw your face
Shining my way
Pure timing

Now I've
Fallen in deep
Slow silent sleep
It's killing me
I'm dying"

Pressing the reverse
to
listen
to those words
again
the paper burning
too quickly
when I write.
Stopping.
Savouring
the last breaths
the alcahol
warming
my throat.
Writing
these words
where I can
fit them
on the
page.
Finishing drink.
I will now fall to
sleep.
Waking tomorrow
to stare
at my phone
to see
and
hear you
one ring.
Wondering
whether
to send you
this.
Butterflies
dying
weighing
down my stomach.
Silently
my heart
is crying
in my breast.