Burning house

What hurts about it all is that I cannot muster the elegance to write about you.

No matter how hard I try I cannot stitch up the right words to describe what I feel

Somehow I always end up with the same cliche metaphors of drowning. Of being pulled down by the crushing weight of the ocean. It has always been the same sinking feeling.

And I have no other words to describe it. How i always think sunsets. How the warmth of your touch was always sunsets. Nothing remotely comes close to this feeling other than the trickling orange amidst the fading blue skies. How quick and how beautiful, how each passing day with you was always the home I longed for.

How is it that even homes are meant to be fragile. How easily it burns down, and all of a sudden we are left with bruises and burns. We tried, always tried to rebuild this home with promises and hand holds. Though it was never ideal, for a long time we managed. It kept us dry from the storms and kept us sheltered from the chaos. God, I miss running away from the world in your arms.

But I have yet to realize that promises make weak foundations. Soon enough we broke apart and you let go. As much as I wanted to do the same, I felt too stuck in this burning house. I still have to learn how to free myself from the mistakes of yesterday.

Now I bury myself in unquenched feeling of missing you. I miss you, every single day. From when you left til forever.

I am stuck in this burning house.