rage and recovery

i tried to let you go

they're all talking to me

and they all want my attention

and my body

and my heart.

and i want to smile

to play the game of 

sharp smiles and red lips

and soft touches,

but even though i try

to be what they want

and to accept their love

and let myself fall for them,

they are not you.

they are not your blue eyes

or your strong hands

or the heart you try so hard to hide.

and they are not your smile

or your loud laughter

or the skin under your teeshirt.

and i want nothing more 

than to want anyone,

anything else

than the curly smattering of hair

dancing across your chest

or the corded muscles of your forearms.

but no matter what i do

or who i talk to

or what i beg myself to feel,

nothing fills my soul quite like

the bump of your shoulder

against my own

or the quiet talks under fluorescent lights

or the squinty-eyed look of morning 

extched across your face. 

i keep telling myself

that they are not you

and that i should be grateful

that they hand me compliments

in ways you never could,

but i keep telling myself

that they are not you

they are not you

not you

and against all reason and rationality

i only want you.