Still a little something there

There is still a little something there. Your smile is burned inside my brain, your lips branded on my collar bone. The way your gentle arms pull me into you from behind is enough to make me melt to the ground. 

I'm a fool. As you are not mine, I am equally not yours. Yet when I try to find it in someone else, I fail before they even have the chance to say hello. No one has the amount of gravitational pull to me as you do, but when I get close you pull away. Maybe I should start doing the same, however the thought confuses me. As when the opportunity is presented I fold faster than origami, my morals are forgotten. My words muted by your lips and I think this is for real this time. 

Being touched by you is something I crave, when your hand rests on my leg on a long journey home. The way your embrace could heal all the wounds that are left bleeding on my body. How your fingers trace the outline of my curves. You compliment them, softly whilst you breathe at the side of my ear. Whispering sentences only I will ever hear, your fingers travel towards my throat and remind me of who my love belongs to. However it is the same as any time, I'm just an outlet for your emotions to be plugged into. A body that your hands caress over when you want to feel. That is why I remain a fool in your eyes, something for you and her to laugh at how desperate someone could want to be loved. 

In the present you're laying on my bed reading. Silently I observe as strands of your auburn hair fall in front of your face. Blocking my view of those eyes, the ones that I could spend years trying to find the words to describe. I want to go over and join you, but there is something telling me that you would rather me sit from afar as you do your thing. I glance over again but you are on the phone, my heart sinks. I know who it is. You're probably telling her how much you miss her and how you cannot wait to see her and I wait hoping you'll finally notice me here even though this is my space, you still haunt it. 

I never mattered because when you went to see her I sat there tears streaming, food uneaten and a heavy sickness in my stomach knowing I had already lost. You will never tell me the truth but I know most of it to understand that you are waiting for me to walk away and leave you both at peace. So that is what I will do. I won't bother you anymore than I already have and I will forget about the way you promised that you'd always tell me the truth. I'm sorry I believed you. I'm sorry that I believed in you. 

I know you will never read this but if there is a chance you do. I want you to know that there will always be a little something there.