I used to...Refer He To my Pen...
That Which Poetry...Curved and Embraced,

Creating Illustrious Vocabulary...Simply to explain the Smile...Inked on my face...
I Loved Him...
Like Poetry...To This Poet...Like Words...organized to Create and Stem Feelings of Inspiration...

Or a Painting that Only the Painter Could Reminisce Upon..No One Not even He
Noticing the Meaning.

I Used to...Refer to him...as Masterful Metaphors...Masterpieces Molded and Made to Mimic Morsels of Him
Heart Skipping Jumping for Joy...I was his More than A Friend...
I...Used to...Hold My Ground wishing to Withstand Any Evil he Encountered..Wishing to be a Hero...and Fix whatever Issue he went through...

I used...to Wish...Gazing Upon Stars...and Hoping upon Moons...and bouncing Upon Clouds...While
He
Was
On
His
Own...

Obviously Oblivious to the Obvious.
I
Used
to...
Cherish Him...
More than he thought...

Man How I Used to...Get All...Anxious Before I Saw Him...
He Who Moved My Insides...and made my Heart Accelerate and Killed Me...
Because Once...I Felt...His Touch my heart stopped Beating...Despite the blood rushing to his spot...

I
used to have
Poetry...

Gushing out of Emotional Veins...
Amazing myself...I Couldn't Stop the Bleeding...
Uncontrollably...Emptying my Contents out...In Passionate Red Colors...

I Used to...
Love Him....
Had Hope...to Give Him...all i was worth...

But what TWAS..seemingly isn't...

I Used to...Read Too Deep Into things...
Too Deeply...Swimming...
Into an unfamiliar Ocean.

Drowning...In another persons tears...Wishing Too
Wipe them Away...
Replacing them With Joy...

I used to...Fantasize...About Open Doors...While Being At Your Door...While Having Birthday Dreams...Good Morning while Playing Hide and Seek hoping as Seasons Change...We Can Be New...Despite The fact that I Keep it To Myself...Because I Bruise Easily...Wishing You Could Please Excuse My Hands...BUT Mi Manchi...I Miss You...

Having Me Like an Open Book, Wishing i had Lidocaine...Cause i fell since i was So High...Cloud 9 and this May Just be Ramblings of a Poet...But i thought i was So much more...To He...Mr.Perfection Attained...If Only He Knew, Yet He Will Never Know, He Like others...Stay Alone...

Or does he...While I Wake Up Alone...

I used to...
Love...You...
Till my Pen Dropped...From Tangibility...Hands...Empty...
I Waited in Vain...for...Ink to Deliver My Endless Need for its Poetry...
Symbiotic Relationship...Severed...

I Used to...