Poem to my lover

Darling,

I can't stand the state
my heart is in
every time she speaks
your limbs trot away
and I feel so alone
in my poetry,
words barely comfort me

So take them, dear
I don't want the language
of my pen to speak anymore,
I'd rather make love to you

Heartsickness is overly dreary
and my chest won't stop sighing
over the sound of our immeasurable distance

quietly you left, unbearably loud you're gone

I'm left here with my shock
all awkwardly dangling
from a heart shaped mirror,

it stares at me
with a smirky grin
of everlasting imagery
laughing hysterically at my idiocy,
taunting dreams
with reflections of you
from it seems another lifetime ago,
when love was kind
and huggable and decent
and liked to smile,
even if just for a little while

(but it's not like that anymore, is it?)