It's hard knowing I can never run back to you,
When your arms were once the ones I spent the longest time in,
Because I know I will never find closure in the present for the past.

I feel homeless, wandering around without a person to pull me into a permanent home. I'm a nomad constantly moving from hug to hug but never able to stay long enough with one person. I don't have a shelter. I'm missing a third of my human needs and in this vulnerability, I don't feel safe.

I don't know what I'm looking for;
Half of me hopes go find you're still the man who had no regards for anyone and broke my heart. I hope this so that I have reason to hold on to my bitterness and fear. I need this because I am still angry. I haven't stopped screaming since the moment my mouth refused to open when your naked body hovered over mine. My blood is still boiling and I will let no one turn off the gas stove. I need reasons to express my emotions. I don't know what I'd become if I stopped feeling... I'm afraid of the girl who was once a ghost because you trapped her between your legs, inside her body, caged in her mind. I am so tired of feeling numb! I felt enough sadness when I was entranced under your spell for two years. Someone break the curse, I would kiss myself if it set me free.

The other half of me hopes to find reason that you've changed. I hope you're the man you said you were going to be because I don't want you to ever hurt someone again like me. I hate having to stay up at night and wallow in guilt at the feeling that it is my responsibility to warn her. I want to forget that you'll forever be tainted to me, and your presence in men who aren't you leaves them unable to touch me. I want to stop caring what you're doing with your life, and desiring to know what you look like.
God, I want to stop writing poetry about you.