you.

you are the thin line between love and hate.

you are the state between dreaming and being awake.

you are the sunset and sunrise and the gravity I attempt to defy. 

 

i.

i am the cloud on a sunny day.

i am also the light that overcomes the darkness. 

i am the hole in your favorite sweater and a cool breeze in 90 degree weather. 

 

you made me feel that from now on, id have to expect the worst

because i gave you my best and it wasnt good enough.

or maybe it was and you knew you could never give me what i deserved. 

thats what i like to believe anyway... 

 

from now on 

a small piece of me will always whisper that im not good enough 

that im not smart enough

that im not beautiful 

that im not strong enough 

that i am just not enough.

 

because i wanted to be the one for you and i thought that i was what you wanted.

but my best wasnt good enough for you.

because the grass is always greener on the other side 

and we only pick the prettiest flowers to watch them die

ever so slowly before our eyes. 

 

you broke my heart

and its breaking. 

every. single. day. 

 

you were never the one who got away. 

you were the one who wouldn't stay. 

you came and left as the water does to the shore and foolishly, 

i thought you'd always come back to me 

you changed much as the moon did, remaining yourself all the while

you transitioned through each season of life and made me believe that change was good

but you also made me believe that i was incapable of being loved 

 

there will never be another you. 

you are undefinable and indescribable and i hate you for that.

but i only hate you because i loved you with every fiber in my body.

because you made my vision blurry and my head spin. 

 

you are the poetry that runs in my veins and comes out thick and strong like honey.  

you are also the words i could never quite express.

 

the only thing left to do now is exist in our own worlds. 

in the dreams that come on fast after a long day.

in the words on lined paper.

in quiet coffee shops.

in art galleries filled with the words the artists could never articulate. 

 

all that is left is for me to do is wait.

in the places filled with soul that have no destination 

the places filled with hope. promise. potential.

the truth is... 

we were never meant for love or hate. 

we were meant for the stars and the inbetween state. 

you may be her night and day, but you are my line between love and hate.

 

-a.h.