3 am; wishing you still loved me

She was the moonlight on my tear stained skin in the middle of a breaking night.
She was the blood that dripped down my legs at the end of a tear streaked day.
She was the cool mist in the air in the beginning of a cool spring morning.
She was birds singing, night swimming, and the smell of a forest at dawn.
She was the love of my life.
And now she is the tears on my cheeks at three am, wishing that she still loved me.