Like you, I have longed for a love once known,
Still learning to fill the spaces I once called home.
Haunted by your presence, I still tremble, trying to find the light in us,
Only to watch it slip through my hands, like whispers lost to the wind.

the hate of turning into the person you hate
is the hate of getting into their skin
the hate of being able to feel their pain
to hate yourself in the process of hating 
and not being able to understand them enough

In an old landscape
I have never seen
A beauty painted since
I could look at it all day

Even when the dark takes over
I couldn't stop admiring
However, I wish to be there
That way I can feel enough of you