Standing in the cold,
Afraid to wave,
Afraid to look.
I wish that I could
Wait in the freezing with you.
Maybe to bring warmth,
But instead I move past.
Instead I try to forget,
And I wonder,
Was there something left unsaid?
I think sometimes we all get caught off guard by how things in the past remain in the present. I suppose that even though I've given up, I won't give up