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You,
you still pop in my head
fake blonde hair you
You showed me someone and 
now there's another.
You change shades, 
like the chapters of fifty shades of grey.
Yet some days i get a glimpse of that fake blonde hair girl i got to meet.
You were perfect, and completely imperfect at the same time. 
You filled my empty spaces as if i was your socket. 
I was the port you visited three to five times a week.
Unloading just as ship does, it's goods,
and your goods my darling were your imperfections.
The empowered yet doubtful actions you would make toward my person
you would be close as one could get, telling me your life not just through your lips 
but eyes. Your eyes spoke emotions, 
told me that once, you thought you had none, 
thought they had been completely worn out,
till they came back, but it's coming back wasn't a blessing 
but a disadvantage, at least on how you were living life now. 
You wanted to believe, you would let me love you.
But your heart was metal, powered just like the iron man's heart, 
by a source that wasn't flesh, easily hurt, easily tampered with,
or easily attacked by feelings. It was a light switch, 
turning it on and off; the light was shining but it wasn't guiding.  
Your heart was on, but wasn't beating. 
I am not sure when you'll be able to get that transplant,
but when you do,
I'll be here, just as promised, 
waiting to hear that...
bum bum, bum bum...(heartbeat sound)