the hollow ache of your absence

the insurmountable anger

that courses through my veins,

is more lethal than deadly nightshade.

i find myself perpetually trapped

in a cycle of hating you then missing you.

missing you, only to find myself hating you once more.

yet, the sentiment that always prevails

is my longing for you—

for your caring words,

for your tender embrace,

for your woody aroma.

and the hatred shifts target—from you to myself.

because how can i miss someone

who rejected me,

when i opened my arms to them?

madness? folly? delusion?

i can’t figure out an adjective

to justify this masochism.

all i know is what my heart wants—

and that is you.

but my will is weak.

i don’t have it in me to keep fighting,

and yet, i don’t have it in me to let you go.

so, i find myself perpetually trapped

in a cycle of hating you then missing you.

missing you, only to find myself hating you once more.

and in the end,

i realize it isn’t hatred that lingers

but sorrow—so deep and unrelenting,

caused by the hollow ache of your absence.

and though your silence wounds me,

i never stopped caring.

so how could i ever truly hate you?

when every fiber of my being

still aches for you?