I Haven't Written About You

I haven't written about you. I like to think it is because you are not worth any of my time, emotions or brain power. I like to think that one day you will make a great character in a story. Maybe you'll be a villain, or a lowly sidekick, or a love interest that is tossed to the side but no. That would require me to paint a picture of you that involves flaws and pain and muck but there is no proper way to put who you are into words. There is no analogy to describe the feeling of my lungs emptying of air when you said goodbye or the drop of my stomach when you mentioned her name or the ache of my bones when you came back for my lips but not my heart.