When I'm with you
you feed me words coated in sugar,
achingly, sickeningly sweet,
that hold my broken heart together.

But then when I'm away from you,
the cracks start to show through
those sugar coated words,
leaving a bitter after taste.

These two flavors blend together
(just like you and I used to)
to form the recipe to our own
twisted, crooked, hybrid form of flirting:

Vague promises of a hazy future,
and obscure references to our...


Despite all this,
I cling to one thing:

The rare, priceless moments
inbetween all this bitter-sweetness.
Inbetween the memories and prophecies.
Inbetween states of mind,
when I am neither hurt
nor longing because of you.

When I am simply me
and you are simply you
and we simply exist.

When I forget.

Forget about the bitter-sweetness,
the memories and prophecies,
the states of my mind,
about hurting and longing because of you.

So I'll lock these snapshots
of my treasured Inbetween
in my broken heart
and hope with everything I am,
that they won't spill out through the cracks.

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