Gone

The thing that hurts the most- the think I think about so often- the only think that ever seems to cross my mind as I find myself daydreaming of you,
Is that I know you'll never love me. Not because you can't. Not because you don't. Not because of anything even slightly seemingly logical.
Sometimes, the reason they don't love you back- the reason they're not feeling the same- is simply because they don't.
Not because theres someone else.
Not because they love another.
Not because you're not good enough.
Not because the two of you are lacking in something more.
Not because it would never work.
Because, in fact, it can. Things could work out so greatly and produce fruits so rich and sweet and beautiful: It could make sunsets vastly more colorful that that of all skies: It could be something as beautiful and wholesome and filling and warm as anything.
It could do so much. Together, there is an infinity.
And apart, there is an end.
No. It's none of those reasons. It's nothing that makes sense. There is no wall to climb, nor any track to break.
It simply isn't because it isn't.
He doesn't love you back because he doesn't.
Theres no sadness where there is no reason.
No starting line, No end.
It doesn't exist.
It never will.
Your hands fall numb.
Your feet will fall still.
Your hear will beat cold, and your soul will feel stung.
There is no cold. There is no warmth.
There is nothing there where nothing was.
It isn't there. It never will be