I hope one day you will forgive me for smelling like alcohol when all you wanted was the scent of roses.
For having bloodshot eyes when you wanted a clear path to my soul.
For shaky hands when you needed stability.
For loving you in poems when you needed actions.
But I will wonder about you sometimes and whether you have missed me enough to drink or you have drunk enough to miss me
.But that is all I will do,wonder.
Because how can I be in love with you when your crimson kisses do not burn my innards, when the butterflies have become bees, when you see me as sentences when I am poems,when you do not call me art and refuse to compare my eyes with stars?
So I will break your heart,until you know what is art.