I Miss

I miss the illusion of being in love with you.

It felt so real.

Something to hold on to,

Something to hope for.

I am, now, left only with the ashes of a dream.

When you were my fake mine, I could imagine your seed in my arms,

Your ring on my finger.

Your wife.

Now am I left with white noise,

Static has replaced the impassioned symphony of love,

That flashed and danced in my heart at the sight of you.

No stutter to my hearts beat that I can acknowledge.

My eyes following you are the actions of a fool.

You want them, while I want only you.

While I waited to be the joy you enjoyed,

You were still discovering new joys.

While I waited, you moved on, until I didn’t remember what I was waiting on.

Didn’t remember until I stopped waiting.

Now waiting is longing.

Longing is pain.

Empty is agony.

Sometimes when it hurts so deep

I feel like I’m swimming in a sea of my own blood.

When lonely is my only lover.

I think to take that random fuck buddy to my bed.

Hoping that in the driving of his body into mine,

I can drive you out.

Purge your love from my heart.

Instead I close my eyes, your name on my lips.

Eyes closed I see only you.

The body I don’t remember is yours.

When it’s over, I’m left with tears and reality.

True knowledge that he isn’t and never will be you.

His scent not yours,

His touch pale and revolting in comparison to what we were.

I try to pull reality in as a comfort.

The truth that if man should choose,

You have yet to choose me, alone.

I swaddle myself in reality.

Roll around in it until it’s scent coats me.

Hold tight to the ends when love waits to rip it away,

Pull it from my grasp.

Wrapped in the thin sheet of reality,

My heart still seeks the hearth of your heart.

I was never so warm as when I was wrapped up in you.

Never as secure.

I miss my illusion.

Miss the eyes of my lie.

The kiss of his lips, the strength of his arms.

Fuck pride!

No, you fuck with self respect.

I feel torn between begging for scraps when I deserve a 5 star meal.

Torn to give you anything when I’m only receiving some things.

The brutal truth,

The pain of being with you makes these feelings like a picnic.

I’m back to square one,

Back to letting go of my love.

Somehow reality doesn’t seem so cold and unfulfilling.

I can accept how I feel for you.

I accept that it’s not meant.

I can do what I must to survive.

If the depth of that love pops up and makes me miss,

Hopefully, I can process my way through before I dial your number.

Before I offer the left side of my bed in exchange for your leftovers.

©Pamela Shropshire 2011

My Only

He appeared seemingly out of nothing, though I know he appeared from my dreams.

Formed and delivered of hope.

My belief that he existed, and that soon he would be here.

Beloved, the names I called you while waiting.

The thoughts I had, while missing arms I had not felt.

Tears rebuked because I would not allow them to fall.

Would not allow their tracks to lay a path to doubt and unbelief.

I knew you were coming because you had to come.

Not that I wouldn't have lived without you,

Or couldn't after you.

No, my hope was not borne of desperation.

It was simply implausible that the hope poured into you would net no result.

Unthinkable that it should be in vain.

There were times when breathing, I smelled you,

In my dreams I felt you.

When other men wanted to lay claim, a voice whispered, wait.

To which I would respond, hurry up.

I have missed you so that words don't exist to convey how much.

There are not colors vivid enough to paint the pain of loneliness.

I can't touch you enough to grow bored.

Can't gaze upon you too long to be satisfied.

I missed your eyes capturing mine,

Missed the way your hand strokes my brow, your lips caress my heart.

Missed your skin dancing under the pads of my fingers.

Missed the smell of you on my clothes, my body, my bed.

I missed your ring weighing my finger.

Missed you.

Now you are home.

Now we are home in each other, formed perfectly for each other,

A fit that would work with no other.

Some days I wonder how I functioned without the pieces you bring to my life.

Quite simply and irrevocably, I love you.

Was in love with you before I knew what in love meant.

Before I knew what boys meant to girls, I knew that somewhere out there,

My best friend was waiting on me.

The one who could look upon my out there thoughts and actions,

Smile and say, that’s my baby.

The one who could love me without embarrassment or apology.

With a purity that runs clear and pure, like a stream,

Bringing two peas to the same pod.

I know it sounds fanciful, but I feel like Rapunzel waiting for ages to be rescued from my tower.

Now that you have found me,

I want to dance and sing and laugh.

With you.

I want to do everything I never did, with you.

I want to pull you in close and hold on,

Secure that in my arms is where you want to be.

Confident that I am home to you and you are to me.

I could wax poetic all day,

Go on, singing odes and composing sonnets,

Dedicated to your lovely eyebrows and distinguished hairline.

I could write an epic which length would not begin to encompass what we are to each other.

But I digress.

My heart steady, my breath a whisper,

I relax in your embrace,

Content to imagine us fifty years down the road in just this pose.

My sigh whispers out,

Breath feathering your face.

Your arms tighten around me and I’m safe.

Just like this, in just this way, I give over to my only.

©Pamela Shropshire 2011