My number one 

What’s wrong with me ?

I hate you for a little bit 

And then wish I was with you again .

I can never forget you I’ve tried 

Every single night .

The more I hate 

The more I love 

I see something in your eyes that 

No one else sees .

Till my memories with you start to blur

And I end up with a dream of what we could have been 

I wish i wrote the way i thought ;

Obessively,

Incessantly'

With madderening hunger.

I'd write to the point of suffocation.

I'd write myself into nervous breakdowns,

manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing.

And I'd write about you a lot more than i should.

 What is grief , if not Love Perservering ?