if you think about it
you've ever read
is just a combination
of the right words
using the variation
of the 26 letters
to make a fusion of letters
dancing on a page
i don't know why i still love you
you've put me through hell and back
all i know is that
i can't stop thinking about you
you make me smile
you make me cry
you make me laugh
you make me wish that i'd never even met you
sometimes i wish that i could go back in time
to stop myself from falling in love with you
but then i realize that this is not possible
because one way or another
i would have fallen for you
you wouldn't know what love is;
for love cannot be defined
the feeling cannot be described
as love, is a force of nature
it can be invited, but not dictated
we sometimes push that feeling away, but it remains
that strong incoherent 6th sense that we long to feel
you cannot make somebody love you
nor can you prevent it
inherently compassionate and empathetic
it confuses many.
is love real?
or is it just a fragment of hope left in humanity?
**maybe we'll never know
i found the letter
it had been opened then resealed a few months back
titled; 'reasons why i love you'
a page filled with such a mellow tone of words
words that replaced your thoughts
and were then addressed to me
i unfolded the creased page,
that had been stored in my cupboard
in between a couple of books
i read each line 3 times over,
to make sure that i had tortured myself enough
with your sweet words from the past
each line had been read,
until my eyes were filled with the bitter sting of tears
until i was unable to make out the letters
you had once scribbled out
and as the drops silently fell onto the crease of the page
my heart sank and my mind began to wonder,
all i could ask myself was 'what if?'
what if i were better to you back then?
would you still be mine?
what if i were stronger and held on?
would we still be together?
what if everything you had written on this page were true?
what if you still meant it all? what if? what if?
what if maybe there's a little hope left for us.
but then, the cold hard truth of reality hit me,
there is no hope and there never will be.
*you will never love me like you used to.
— The End —