Loss. It’s like constantly waiting for the pain to go away. To just get the hell away so an even breath can finally make its way past your bitten and bleeding lips for the first time in god knows how long.

Loss. Its like being on death row waiting for your number to be up.
The metal bars that keep you caged in are no longer constricting but comforting. As long as you have them you will have your life. That is enough to make them bearable.
 

Loss. It’s like hearing the teasing sound of the rustling leaves but the breeze never quite reaching you. The yearning of something you know you will not feel again.

Lust. It’s like the emptiness has evaporated into thin air, leaving an earth shattering trail of passion in its wake.

Lust. It’s like a thousand beautiful butterflies dancing in your stomach. While your heart does backflips and the thin hair of your forearms stands on end because he has entered the room.

Love. It’s like the world is finally where it needs to be simply because your hand in his. The burden of carrying your own heart has been stolen from you as long as it belongs to him. The smiles you wear on your lips are no longer forced or self-conscious but easy.

Loss. The walls are up again.