I Miss You

I love how your nose sits perfectly on your face.

I love that your hair, golden like the sun, makes Samson weep with covet.

I love how your laugh can ignite great mirth in those of despairing dispositions, making music so sweet, seraphs would plunge at your feet.  

I love how you glide your fingertips down my spine to grab my ass, provoking involuntary back curls, evoking fervor, till our sweat exudes from every pour, and we perish in our own being.

I love how you loved me, and I hate that I still love you.

I hate that you've left me.

I hate that when I think of you, the devil reaches inside and squeezes my gut so tight the ache could hurt the greatest sadists of hell.

I hate that my pangs for you beat the loudest drums waking giants from their deepest slumbers.

I hate that I cry to every whisper of your name, every song you sang, and every reminiscence of our pain.

I hate that time has eluded us, and we've grown apart.

I hate that your non-existence, cripples every pulse of my blood pumping heart.