Confessions of a whimsical lover

Though Its tempting

I will not confess

how much I miss you.

I will not surrender to your proclamations of love -

Vacuumed honesty,

filtered promises

and perfumed words.

I have my pillow for teary nights

and lonely noons.

I have my books and music

to distract.

and remind.

I will neither tweet, scrap or text.

I will wait for you to understand

what I, we, mean to you.

If not, I will die, not alone, but with dignity.