Sometimes, when I let go of you, I fall.
I fall into a wood chipper and cry sawdust.
I fall into masturbating and bleed lust.
I fall into gold chocolate and I eat rust.
Nothing’s more painful than letting go of the truth.
Sometimes, when I leave you behind, I forget things.
I think the touch of your skin is like slug slime.
I think of your voice like a broken nursery rhyme.
I think these wounds will all heal in time, in time.
Nothing’s more regretful than being human; losing youth.
Sometimes, when I drown with you, I’m good at math.
Factor in all the times you made me lose the path.
Divided by the times I boldly faced your wrath.
Multiplied by that time I quit you cold turkey.
Nothing equals: why do I even love you after all?
Sometimes, when I dream of you, the other stars fade.
The secret to loving you explains how the universe was made.
The sun and the moon make love, eclipsed nightmares evade.
Venus and Mars make pillow-talk a banquet of bliss.
Our signs aren’t compatible, but why trust the zodiac?
Sometimes, when we fight, there’s a silver lining.
I mine for it and melt it down, polish it and wear it.
I’d never sell it, but I would brag about it.
I’d never forge one, but I caught you faking it.
Conduct a survey of my affections and find it unanimous.
Sometimes, when it’s over, it’s just beginning.
I see you on the horizon of dawn escaping the wake of sunset.
I hear you playing the harp of loneliness in a crowded cacophonous room.
I taste you weeping as your new love docks in from an ocean voyage.
Nothing’s more dissolving than the nature of your serpentine carousel.
In short, never have I ever never gone a day without thinking of you,
Without wandering the wastelands wondering when I’ll next see you,
Without my heart aching under the heartbreaking realization that you,
The edifice of my pining, are exactly who I thought you weren’t, you,
Are healing poison, and I’ll only drink when I wish to die whilst feeling alive again.