I knew you consumed me.
You were on my mind.
When my eyes closed,
you prevented me from getting rest.
I knew you wanted to be close,
but familiarity is better than risk.
Our glances no longer mean much today.
The lines on my face have disappeared.
When your last breath was taken,
my imagination of you stayed.
Through insistence and invasion,
you are the same person,
but I still desire what little you can offer.
There was nothing to do,
but admit your desertion hurt me.
I searched for you,
a lost cause not wanting to be found.
I would do anything to hold your hands,
to believe you cared.