I am stuck trapped and tortured with visions of you

weeks, months ago I ended things in my usual cruel cold manner

and the guilt has faded as has the longing for reconciliation

yet I still wish to hold you I still wish to stroke your skin

I still yearn for your lips on my neck and your hands on my breasts

but that is all that's left, this hazy teenaged lust

that fiery passionate all-encompassing love I held for you is gone

and now I think of other lips and other hands, not just yours

I replay the moments over the weeks, when I traced his body with my eyes

and he gave me this look as if he sees right through me

I want to run my fingers through his short hair

I writhe in my bed just thinking about it

it simultaneously feels relieving and terrible to put these feelings into words

I see you every day in my mind, I think of you often and always

but I do not love you anymore

it's quite confusing

perhaps I am simply mourning the love

that childlike giddiness I felt when we talked for hours on end

perhaps I wish to torture myself

blinded by a Shakespearean education, I long for a doomed romance

he is in love with someone else, some funny girl from years ago

he probably sees her like I see you, but he hasn't lost the love

his love rings loud and clear and loyal

and yet

here I am, clumsily articulating how alone I am