Stuff Your Pity

Just the mention of your name
And those looks of pity
I want to tell them all
"You have no idea. Leave me alone!"
How can they expect that their own experience is so similar to mine?
The heart can break in approximately 1,375,320 ways.
Mine is not the same as yours and never will be.

My Heart

To rebuild
To carefully craft
To piece together
The leftover bits
Some of them are lost forever
Under a couch?
Vacuumed up?
Eaten by the dog?

Nearly 26

To realize at this age,
when I have all the necessary documents proving I'm an adult,
that I don't have a solid idea about, well, anything,
leaves me in a perpetual state of doubt.

What I miss most

Months
And so many real days later
It went by so quickly

A tender kiss
That is what I miss most

Fingers gently gripping mine
That is what I miss most

Looking into your eyes
That is what I miss most

The future
That is what I miss most!

Oh, it all.
Redirecting my thoughts at such inopportune times 

To be married

A bed warmed by a lover's resting body
Arms reaching, complete acceptance
Two hearts trying, at best, to keep a fire burning despite the winds of monotony
Commiserating over loss of mutual independence 
To continue on in the daily trudge, no longer braving it alone
Consolation when the past pulls your heart into those same old depths

Still facing the blackness, but with a hand at the small of your back

A contented sigh, if all goes as hoped