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Tonight I am bothered that I miss you.
I think to myself,
You, mighty girl, are weak.
You, independent one, need another.
You, lover of solitude,
are lonely.

I wonder if I was better off before you.
Simply because,
when I was with the others I tried to love,
I always knew I was better off without them.
Better on my own.

But you brought my to a different level, a higher plane,
That was even better than the "better off" I was by myself.
And I knew I could never settle entirely for less than that
again,
and I let myself rise and rise and rise anyways.

But you always leave,
and then I have to parachute down from that
and I am left dissatisfied.
Your eyes no longer compliment
Your lips no longer cherish
Your hands no longer explore,
or carry
or lead.

You give me your word.
And in case that isn't enough,
you give me your words.
Words and words and more words.

But today, I don't want that.
Keep your vowels and consonants,
which fail to pass as vows and constants.

I'm sorry, and it's no-one's fault

Today, words just aren't enough.

(Photos by sara*teresa, via Flickr)