To You,

 

Maybe one day,

Months,

Or even years from now,

You will realize what You lost.

And You will search for

Me.

Maybe You will try to call,

But my phone number will have changed.

Or maybe through a letter,

But your message will never arrive.

When You give up looking for

Me

Physically,

You will then search for

Me

Emotionally.

You will try to find someone else,

Someone to love You

As much as I did.

As much as I so foolishly still do.

But the next woman

Will be nothing like

Me.

She will be nothing,

Nothing but a dismal replacement of

Me,

Of the lust that You let slip away.

Nothing she does will arouse You,

And that will shatter her.

She will recognize

Me

In your eyes,

Looking back at her with empathy,

When she becomes exhausted of loving a man

Who can not give back what he takes.

You will try to find traces of

Me

In every soul,

Body,

And heart,

That comes after

Me.

But You will not ever find

Another

Me.

The hardest part

Of losing You

Was not the goodbye,

But learning how to fill an emptiness

Left inside

When You decided to quit on

Me,

On us.

But maybe one day,

Months,

Or even years from now,

I have hope

That we will cross again

When we have matured,

And our minds are less frantic,

And we will still be right for each other.

But right now,

It is clear to

Me

That I am too much chaos

For your thoughts,

And You are too much venom

For my heart.

 

 

Love,

Me