I love you.
I love you so much but I could not love you enough.
I am inadequate... to myself, to those who claimed to love me, to you.
I love you but I am imperfect, in the soma and the psyche.
I reeked of darkness and loneliness; upon which I find you as the last person in the world to deserve such monstrosity.
I love you but enough is never a word that best suits me...
for I realized that as like ceramic cups where cold tea was left forgotten...
half empty is always the one that ghosts over me.
Maybe, it is far easier to recognize what is lost in you than to acknowledge that which mattered and true.
I love you but my voice is not strong.
The cry of my love is only a tick in the clock amidst the roaring of machines... Something you will not hear even if you strain to.
I love you but you are so far in distance and in name.
Your name is spelled out in cosmic fires while I carved my my name in rocks.
You are so far that even the Impossible cannot cross the distance between you and I.
Yet for that I thank God because He allowed me to witness such beauty and love...
... a nebula in the faraway galaxies adourning beauty to my universe, providing colour in its inky blackness,
untainted and pure and safe away from the destructive singularity burning in the center of this (my) reality - me.
Even if the threads of our fates do not meet, I'll thank you for painting my skies.
And with all the remaining russets of my heart, I'll love you.
And I love you.