It was a beautiful evening,
A rare purple sky and empty-
And I was thinking of you.

I wish I didn't, but I did,
And I do, more often than I like.

I remember, I fell asleep,
And when I woke up again,
the evening I so loved was gone-
like you.

It's hard to decide sometimes
which hurts more to know-
that they don't care anymore
or that maybe they never cared?

Why is it that you know the answer
and wait for one just look
or one conversation or anything-
why does it feel so necessary?

Why does it hurt worst to know
you'd take years and more
but they get over it so soon-
so soon that you've not healed yet?

~🍂

People think the worst
is to not be seen
when the worst is to be someone's path
and not their journey.

PS: If you like these, please follow @Rytada on tumblr.

If luck has led you to me,
it's a punishment for you,
but I wish you knew this-
how it feels to be a punishment
and an unfortunate destiny.

The eyes see so much more
than we want them to see.
We hear more than we should
and listen to unsettling facets.
We feel more than we wish to
and remember more too.
Our perception costs our sanity

Our lives fear change,

Can’t bear the unknown—

So words become stillness,

And poems, their stone.