you

I never thought it would hurt this way
me calling "asshole" into the dark.
somehow I thought you would take more responsibility.
never realized that you had been running from that,
only to find it smacking you in the face,
in the most inextricable ways.

your love, given freely in my bed,
and then taken back in phone calls never made,
in precious visits peppered
with compulsive fucking,
and compliments.

the way that the lack feels
cannot be plastered over
with occasional encounters.
with the nothingness of the lack in my bed

after all it is the everyday,
that I miss
and you do not.