I see you, I watch you, but your so far away from me.

Moved on, moved away from me, but im stuck still wanting you.

I just dont understand why any of this happened. So many years have past wasted. What should have been, What could have been I imagine all the time.

If we could only turn back time and fix my mistakes, our lives would be so different today.

My Life is now that of abandoned days, locked inside a shit filled cage. The shit is my aura, my secrects which bleed out all over the floor. Now I am unable to escape, to run from my sins. Constantly being consumed by my thoughts, driving me insane, driving my pain, driving me in a never ending nightmare on repeat when I awake. Everyday is just tourment and pain. Torture and pain.

When our song comes on I can smell your prescence, feel the air with your perfume all around. But your not here. Your so far away. i feel like im losing you to someone else. And I have, its been 10 years, and I still think about these days. Re reading journal entrys from when we were trying to make it, trying to make anything work. We are so much older now, so much has changed, all the lies, the bullshit, and the frustrating fucked up shit we endeared, but alone we both are now, with no one, not even each other. You were the most significant part of my life. The most important thing ever to happen to me. Now you are gone. What do I do, its been years and I cant get over you. 10/18/25

Revision to a poem.

Abandoned Days

My life is now that of abandoned days,
locked inside a shit-filled cage.
The filth is my aura,
my secrets bleeding out
across the cold, cracked floor.

I am unable to escape,
unable to outrun my sins.
Thoughts consume me whole—
driving my pain,
driving the endless nightmare
that greets me each morning.

Every day is torment and pain.
Torture and pain.

When our song comes on,
I can smell your presence.
The air thickens
with your perfume,
but you’re not here.

You’re far away.
Too far.

I feel I’m losing you
to someone else.
I already have.
Ten years gone,
and I still read the old journals,
the letters, the fragments
of when we tried to make it,
tried to make anything work.

We are older now,
shaped by lies and exhaustion,
our scars stitched
from the same thread of longing.

Alone we stand—
no one beside us,
not even each other.

You were the most significant part
of my life,
the most important thing
that ever happened to me.

And now you are gone.
What do I do with this silence?
What do I do
when it’s been years,
and I still can’t
get over you?