What I Knew I Had 

 

It was the palm of your hand in mine, 

the tender tingles it sent through my arm,

 the look in your eyes 

Screaming

 the fact

 that 

you 

loved 

Yet, I only felt it on the arm, nowhere else.

I had only felt exposed to the parts you touched, though 

You had all the keys

You had my blood on your pink hands, and I didn’t even care

More, I didn’t notice such a thing

And 

Neither 

Did you. 

It was how you could make me reverse in personality,

The way I submitted just as easily as I dominated, ruling both sides.

And it was the fact that you made it feel a lot more than it actually was, in retrospect, anyway.

But you weren’t all the bad. The man I loved wasn’t terrible, actually.

I don’t know who you are.

But why did you decide to take him from me? 

What had I committed?

I miss him. The one you had taken.

 My love.

 I don’t know where he left to, 

And still to this day 

I wonder why

 he decided to become a tourist without me 

And leave his body behind. 

Such a tender and tragic story, I’m sure.

But I blame it on the person who has taken over you, 

My love. 

It could be me mourning you, 

It could. 

But it shouldn’t, because I don’t mourn.

I take myself with you. 

And I may be gone as well, 

I think I’m close to figuring it out,

 darling. 

It seems that I shall 

eternally be missing you,

But when summer comes close 

that I shall allow myself to weep,

For it is the day

 I’ve found you missing.

I won’t cry, 

I won’t sob,

 I won’t rain until dry. 

Not for you

 not for me

 not for him

 It isn’t such a tragedy as it seems, as you breathe and live into the day of April 1st

You aren’t dead, but it is very much a certainty that I may as well not see you 

Ever again. 

My love, I feel as if I’m lost

I still feel like I can reach towards your hollow body, 

As I do not see myself in my mirrors 

They all reflect 

you. 

But I realize with each sharp shard of pain, 

That he’ll back away, which is so unlike you.

Normally, I think that you

 secretly couldn’t of waited

 to have your hands on me. 

Dearest, do you realize how hard it is

To miss the good memories I have 

Without missing you?

Somewhere, somehow, you were always in the frame

Whether the shadow of our pictures being taken,

Or in the windows of my eyes everytime I needed my daily eyeful of you.