The philosophy of being Kinky

I see you out of the corner of my eye in every blond boy that walks by.
I close my eyes and dream about you.
I walk through campus and every building acts as a cue
to remind me of you.
Every fallen leaf reminds me of the fall when I visited you.
Every stolen glance at the cloudy sky.
I don't even try.
And every time my new boy comes by
all his failures reflect the perfections of you
like a photo negative layered over you.
I try to not see the view,
but I am still reminded of you.

He always a agrees
being with him's all to easy
he's stable overly agreeable.
We never fight like you and I used to
our fights back then had passion and weren't over anything
With him it's all seriousness and darkness
He never screams at me
or understands the dark side of passion like you do.

And I miss so much more of you
I miss the arguements more than you.

I miss your goodness
you're faith and your despair
I miss how you saw me as I wanted to be.

We used to say we'd never find another like eachother
I never believed it fully
and now I do.

Goddess I miss you.

The 5 hour conversations and coffee
the allure of your world so different and the same.
Your compliments, your languages
your way with words
the memory of your tongue
no no I try but these things can never escape my memory.

It's so easy to forget your depression
and the crushing weight of loving someone who doesn't love himself
and how badly I needed to be with more than just you.
Maybe it's just the same now and I'll miss the snuggles and the way I can cry in front of him
but it just won't be the same
it'll never be the same.
It never is.