I still dont know if somebody has ever told you that you had the most beautiful eyes

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I miss you and i dont know how to explain what it feels like. It haunts me to lie in all these isolations i was thrown down in, it hurt me to know that the only rope i held on had glass within. It was a beautiful journey from stranger to lovers and from lovers to strangers, with you. It was beautiful when you exhaled warm air on my neck, and it was beautiful when you used to dress up and ask 'How do i look?'. I still dont know if somebody has ever told you that you had the most beautiful eyes. I see you, i still see you almost every night when i fail to sleep. I see you besides me and you put your hands across my chest and hug me, and then i feel like home. But i can no longer touch you now, is it just a vision? Or is it something i was made to go through? What was the point of letting me in when you ultimately had to push me out, what was the point of choosing me when you had to drop me like a glass vase. I don't even know how to hate you, i would recognise your voice even after a century, because if was to me, darling, i would choose you right in the middle of my two hearbeats. You were everything to me, and i was begging you please don't go. But the winters which once gave me you, you threw me out of them.

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