I wanted to tell you but I'm not going to.
You're somewhere else.
And I'm stuck at that line I drew in the sand.
Toed in with all the sincerity of a man backed into a corner.
Rejected, overlooked and passed over for the final time.
I'm sorry I kept coming up wanting.
I'm sorry I'm not enough.
You're my stumbling block, that I'll never get over.
You're my unwilling muse, the reason my heart speaks in a language my fingers clumsily transcribe.
I'll never be yours.
You'll always be mine.
That cold ache when I wake up alone in a quiet room.
Morning and afternoon slipped by, and I'm still naked mussed and unshaven under the covers.
Crossing the sunfiltered blinds, looking passed in complete silence.
Thought brings you. You bring longing.
And I can only deal with the silence in your absence.