How can a heart

Feel so heavy?

Weighted with throbbing aches

And tarnished

By fizzy feelings

And a memory of someone's touch.

And yet the heart is empty,

Weightless in its memory

Of the feather-like touches

Vague; a dark hue,

But still etched and tangled

In the heartstrings.

Remembering is longing

For something long gone.

i know it's okay to cry.

it's been a year since you've died

in my heart.

and you will forever stay there.

forever. forever.

but i don't want you to.

i just want to forget.

sorry for not saying you were mine.

i am sorry, truly. this is something

which i tend to ponder on greatly.

i am sorry, my dear.

although you were never mine, and i was never yours.

but our eyes from across the room said otherwise.

glancing at the same time, at the wrong time, at the right time.

darting gazes into each other direction.

catching the oh so precious gaze of each other

and melting.

did you feel the same?

our unspoken words etched fiercely into our soul's iris.

we said 'i love you' with our eyes;

the only chance to convey what we were feeling.

but it wasn't enough.

sorry for not saying you were mine.

i feel as though i am stuck in an empty space,

creeping through the cracks of this world

touching nothing.

i reach out in search for something tangible

but i am only caressed by the unfilled air.

when i close my eyes it feels the same,

but the only difference is

that you are there.

i cover the mirrors in my house.

i cover them with silken scarfs i do not wear.

the shiny reflections concealed, shrouded in darkness.

a mask for the mirrors face itself.

i wish i had a mask...

hiding, veiling myself from what is real.

i don't want to see;

i don't want to know what i've become.

and the dark snuffed out the light,

smothering any flicker that had the hope of breaking free.

emptiness. nothingness.

abyss.

even the shadows were lonely

as no jeering sparkle shone through

to challenge the darkness.

oh, how bleak was the world now.

with no protruding light to balance out

the mess that was the world.

no hope, only oblivion.

three months,

no words spoken.

now that we are here -

beside each other,

while the wind hugs our bodies

in a just caress,

pushing us together -

i wonder if we are perfectly awkward,

or just meant to be.

weeks have elapsed and now that we're here,

close enough and smiling with our eyes,

its as if nothing ever happened.

casually jumping into everday conversation

as if nothing ever mattered at all.

perhaps the sky will collapse on us again,

the weight of the world already on our shoulders.

how do we move?

how do we run?

with our heels digging way beneath the mud,

anchored.

there is no hope left.