you are a love long forgotten; a man i met literal lifetimes ago. pages have turned coffee-stain sepia with age from how long it's been, and dust has firmly settled itself between the two of us.
we used to sit at the pier when the moon was overhead, the glow shining and reflecting on the sea's calm waters. the only thing better than the sound of crashing waves was your voice — and it kept me warm for the rest of the cold night.
i would trace constellations on your freckled honey skin, my heart so full and fluttering from being able to be so close to you,
but you had someone else at the time, and we were just friends —
( just friends, it still hurts to think about, even now )
— but i was happy.
i remember whispering things to you, things that no one else could; that i could never forget you, never leave you, that leaving you would be leaving a part of me.
and everything since then has been a blur. i don't know why or how, but it feels like my heart has been torn apart and been taken away from me.
we've been made anew, displaced by whichever gods are constantly taunting us. you're gone now,
and i've never felt more incomplete.
