Same Boy, Different Day

I love you and I miss you and I really really wish you would see the pain behind my eyes, this unbridled love I cannot disguise that draws me to write bad poetry, an act I know unwise as this is a notion of the being of my heart and this wickedly cold ocean has done nothing but tear my sails when I need them most; when I stand before men who know my secrets and have seen my grief and still they remain idiotic; their passion merely brief in a time when I only wish for elongated desire, not some indolent ***** who has rotted up his soul then used his false intentions and my despondency to bowl down every dream I had of a happy family and a kind, loving dad who knows his wife and would never say he regrets his life when in fact he means that he regrets me.