A passer-by is what I see.
A passer-by you are to me.
It's not that you a stranger, you from my past.
Past experiences unpleasant, so we didn't last.
Last thing I remember, a thousand words in your stare.
Long lasting moments, as if they were never there.
A thousand words to say but neither of us try.
Instead egos are built up and we continue to lie.
The lies that were told and the reactions I gave.
Then I lie to myself thinking you I forgave.
Saying I needed closure, but I wanted the last word.
Playing an imaginary scene in my head that's never seen or heard.
I plan to approach you with everything I need to say.
Structured scenes in my mind excite me for the next day.
Approaching this head on , no more living a lie.
Then I find out you pass away and never pass me buy.
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 3:18 PM UTC