Don't cry
We are angels waiting to fly.
Our wings will grow one day.

You asked me if I miss you,
and I do, terribly,
but I can't anymore.

I need to move on,
we need to move on.
I can't write any more sad poems.

Although it hurts,
although there are nights when all I wanna do is jump out of bed and run to wherever you might be,
although life is just not the same without you near me.

I'm just gonna have to carry that pain
and we are gonna have to learn to live missing each other.

There are no fairy tale endings in life,
nor are there always bittersweet ones,
sometimes, there are just endings.

At least we will always have poetry.
I'll see you at the end of another sentence.

The passage of time
makes the picture of the heart clearer.
Whatever was thought as important
becomes but a blur in the background
while half-forgotten things come to the front.

A cigarette shared in the dark,
the curvature of a smile,
the perfume filling the air,
the delicate way in which eyes first crossed sights;
all seemed such random occurrences,
so lacking in memorability,
all seemed like they were gone for good.

But the more time comes between
the many faces of us,
the more those kinds of memories are brought back to mind,
connecting us to who we were.

We keep losing our shadow
and it keeps appearing in the most peculiar places.

I can't help but wonder
where will it appear next?
What will be loved tomorrow
that has been forgotten today?