Reconciliation.

Is it love if the arid ravines careering along my heart no longer quaver the same tune, yet yield the same bittersweet harvest I’ve grown accustomed to?

When every breath is a caustic sigh woven into the fabrics of their mercurial essence — heavy & repugnant, like chainsmoke, yet refreshing, as the ethereal beauty of spring?

If every moment is a weeping breath in a billow of their broodful temperament?

You hurt me to no return.

Even then, I admittedly still craved you by my side -tugging at my pillows, caressing my stomach - enamored by a deep yearning of your presence...

It's as if every night my heart still finds a way to heal the gash you left behind; as if you're still in possession of a key you didn't deserve.

I miss it.

It takes a strong soul to forgive. But it takes an even stronger soul to justify and rationalize; to sift past the manifold of possibilities, and unearth the layers of disillusionment, arriving at a reasoned conclusion.

I still find myself tracing over my lips at the thought of you.

One fault, one mishap, one screw up, could never outweigh or outclass the you I’ve come to cherish...

I just need to get over myself.

But I fear I'm running out of time.