Rough

It hurts that I can’t have you now at all, but it’s worse I had you first and lost it all.

It’s painful to see you go, it’s worse to feel you go

I hate that I wake to the sound of your voice, yes your voice in my head, the voice in my dreams when I lay in my bed. The dreams so vivid, so real-surreal, it makes me livid and twisted. The hand that I touch does not exist; it goes through mine as I go through yours, all four fingers intertwined. I know you love me, but that’s not enough, I know you care, but that’s not enough. I want you here, but you say enough is enough. Love is… truly rough.