Four and a half months

and countless pages later,

it's still the same old story

of the night falling with my tears.

My humpty-dumpty heart

has fallen once more

and now matter how long it's been,

it seems that no one

can put my heart back together again.

Sometimes memories of you will strike me

right in the back of my head,

landing a blow

and catching me off-guard,

the way a thief

mugs the innocent--

sudden.

Ruthless.

Sharp.

I'll be walking with myself

intact

when suddenly

I'll flash back

to the time you put your head

on my shoulder,

or when I watched you

play basketball at night,

or the night I snuck out

to see you,

and each time I remember,

it'll knock the breath

and hope

right out of me,

making me plummet to the ground

over

and over

again,

and I wonder if this

is what people call

"dying."

Most days I'll be soaring above the clouds

but then a glimpse of you

will drag me back down below,

and the thought of you

talking to another girl

shatters me

like a bullet piercing a window,

and soon I'm splintered

in all directions,

and I can't see past you anymore.

Four and a half months later:

I still miss you.

You.

You.

You.

The ache will sit in my chest

for seconds

or weeks

at a time,

and my heart is always asking

when you're coming back,

and when I answer that

you're not,

it falls silent,

and everything in my world

falls with it.