Amore,
Are those your fingers, ripping through my flesh and wrapping themselves around my ribs like rotting desperate worms..?
Please don't pull me so hard, my ribs are sharp, you're going to hurt your skin...
Besides,
You're suffocating me...
I miss you love,
I miss you when I look at the white white sun on the heavy sky that is about to collapse and shatter like a broken mirror from the pressure in my chest...
I have broken a lot of mirrors every since you left,
I miss you, amore...

My ribs have a life of their own and they breath when they wish to and it's never calibrated with my lungs so they just end up stabbing my heart over and over and over... help?

When I miss you so much,
does my writing even have to be

complete..

?