My fingers burn with the slightest touch of your hands and even when we are surrounded by personalities of guile and bodies reeking of obscurity, time somehow freezes. With every gaze into your hazel orbs and every touch that could’ve been something else, I speak to the stars about stories I imagine. They’re all beautiful, for they have you in them but it still doesn’t seem enough. Cracked smiles through silhouettes of the frayed doors and a poetic breeze that never blows, I mock myself for feeling something that didn’t exist. Anything that could go wrong did. The Earth has become The Sun for there’s only heat and it scorches and hurts. I see death in souls that claim they love each other and leaves that fall off trees lie there waiting for my tears to glisten their verdant veins. There’s destruction in gray buildings and the night sky makes me miss you. Songs at high frequencies drown the voices in my head but the aches just never leave. The heartbeats that were supposed to synchronize with symphonies died down and arterial bursts of love turned stone cold to leave fragments inside the ribcage. To find a haven in someone else is difficult. What’s more difficult is being left to decay in a haven you thought you had found. As I watched you leaving, I had but a box of abstract memories and the sound of your voice and old conversations to hold onto. I’m so glad you have found a haven now, I just wish you’d never left the one I made with dried petals and songs of the rain. Maybe you were right and I was wrong, for sometimes when you fall, you fall for the wrong one. I know I did.