But You, My Beloved

My hunger survives off your belligerent smile, as it puts the blazing sun up in my sky

It's those nonsensical possibilities you whisper which floods my being with your eyes

That insatiable need to feel your face in my cold palms, chilled from the white wintry wonderland outside

But your countenance remains as fiery as ever, lit from the burning passion in your soul

I love it, I love you

It's the thirst for your smile that keeps me awake at night, silent stealthy streams of water crawling down the sides of my face

I stare at the ceiling, a cumbersome weight settling itself on my chest, pushing rough air out my suffering lungs

Inhaling is difficult

My heart, oh, the poor damaged organ, a pitiful thing in need of health and healing, of beautiful, loving recovery

For it has taken one too many hits from you

You, my graceful, honorable, lovely gentleman, who smiled at the chilly digits caressing your face, that regretful evening not even a night back

White wisps spiral downward ever harder, and I've not a light to protect my being from such grave frost

For you, my dearest, stole furtively away, managing to purloin the remains of my soul with you

To feel the softness of the bed sheets is now an impossible task, for my sense of touch no longer remains in my control

My sight you take also, and I stumble through the turbulent depression without but a single light

Tasting your lips becomes a fleeting wish of the past; the privilege to partake of the personal intimacy goes unfulfilled, sparking the start of my deterioration

Savoring the subtle smell of you became the highlight of my day, my week, my month, my year, yet those memories swiftly died in the course of an hour, and accordingly, as will I

My ears were blessed from the melodious sound of your voice, such hollowed curves shouting joyful thanksgivings as you leaned in close to announce that which killed, and kills, me

"We're through."

I could barely stand straight, let alone watch you turn to go

The distinct, faraway sound of a heart breaking roared in my ears

The last of you I saw was your back against the dark canvas of a sky, a still silhouette contrasting the speckled white floating from above

I had collapsed in a pool of self-hatred, emotions a jumbled heap of disgusted loathing for myself, for me, for my existence

And now

Staring at the ceiling, clutching my heart, there's nothing human I feel

I realize with another sharp pang of the chest that I am dying

And it's you

You I need

Nothing else within this world can dust off my dropped, damaged, forgotten soul

But you, my beloved

This poem is about: 
Our world

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