Broken from the Inside.

"Distractions. We believe in the necessity of objects that can be played with. We’re good at that. But when did we become them? What happened to concrete emotions; passion, faith .. love? Did it dissipate along with the fabricated truth we told ourselves so many years ago with the words of good bye still freshly lingering upon our lips? My world tipped backwards and became elongated, you twisted away from my reach and became someone completely different. You no longer craved the touch of me and I withered away in petty retribution, cursing along the way. And this is who I am, no longer completely satisfied with distractions of half whispered “I love you’s” said into the darkness. What of you? What right do you claim to waltz back within my glass world? I hate it. And if I could, I hate you."

Gone.

It's irritating.  This sensation of bitterness that flickers across my mind.  My, what tangible scars you have streaked haphazardly within you!  I feel as if my own imagination is mocking me.  It's easy.  It's a sure thing.  To talk to you.  And miss the taste of you.  Crave the embrace your soul wrought for me.  What was that again … faith … trust?  No.  Thats not right.  Im sure it's not as easy as that.  To label it.  Mar it with superficial tendencies. 

Come back.  I miss you.