You

Your lips quivered
Your eyes locked to mine
These were the first days
Days before the worst days
I yearn for their return
That in the midst of lonely painful nights
Nights of scorn
Nights of panic
Nights of chaos
That I'd return to the sweet boy with short hair and no shirt
Endlessly fumbling on a set of fake drums
That your aroma and prescence would stop my heart
Only to kill me in that moment
That one honest moment
But realistically
I am here
Yearning
Yearning for the impossible
You