If only for a while, I've somewhat learned what it means to have that void. To have someone whose heart pines away for you only to find yourself fagging to evince love at a breathless 60 minute pace. Then, you're left in breathless wonder knowing that they are blindly combing for an exorcised band, disposable comb, and half washed clothes that have been routinely threaded with someone else's. They've equated you with this 'someone else as if you were Siamese twins. You now open and shut a door to an empty room no longer wondering why the sky is BLUE or why the two birds you once heard belting, are no longer there. You ask yourself, was there really two? That's only before you hold the picture in the frame of someOne who sits next to another framed picture of an afflictive heart, mechanical breathes, and the cruelest state on the map, Mental Uncertainty. Then and only then you have hope that your love is still the oxygen that keeps his heart beating for you. Void Less.
(To my beautiful gift. Breathing love)
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