i fell in love with this boy who would paint the
horizon into a stanza, and the moon
into a phrase and he had hazel eyes and
a beautiful smile and i used to count the minutes
until i could see him and feel his warm embrace
you are no longer him
you are no longer him, the boy who wrote me
songs and you rarely write poems anymore and
it's been a while since you've said you loved me
and meant it, and so that i suppose is why i
must let go of you my darling
because i have been craving and loving and
missing someone who i wasn't meant to love,
and in the end i suppose i did only
love you for the words you spoke, the image you
so clearly conveyed, and the memories
that still make me smile to this day
i fell in love with someone who is not you, and i have
spent a long time trying to figure out why i was
so stuck on your love, so attatched to who you were
but then i realized you would never again be
the boy who's poetry i would tattoo on my skin
and who's songs i would scream at the top of my longs
you are no longer him and i am no longer the
carefree, naive innocent girl you fell for either
so i suppose i can forgive you for changing because
i only did the same
forgive me though, because i still dream sometimes
about you and i, and i secretly hope you do too
though perhaps it would be for the best if you didn't
for wilted flowers are better off dead than barely alive
(h.l.)
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
i fell in love with this boy who would paint the
horizon into a stanza, and the moon
into a phrase and he had hazel eyes and
a beautiful smile and i used to count the minutes
until i could see him and feel his warm embrace
you are no longer him
you are no longer him, the boy who wrote me
songs and you rarely write poems anymore and
it's been a while since you've said you loved me
and meant it, and so that i suppose is why i
must let go of you my darling
because i have been craving and loving and
missing someone who i wasn't meant to love,
and in the end i suppose i did only
love you for the words you spoke, the image you
so clearly conveyed, and the memories
that still make me smile to this day
i fell in love with someone who is not you, and i have
spent a long time trying to figure out why i was
so stuck on your love, so attatched to who you were
but then i realized you would never again be
the boy who's poetry i would tattoo on my skin
and who's songs i would scream at the top of my longs
you are no longer him and i am no longer the
carefree, naive innocent girl you fell for either
so i suppose i can forgive you for changing because
i only did the same
forgive me though, because i still dream sometimes
about you and i, and i secretly hope you do too
though perhaps it would be for the best if you didn't
for wilted flowers are better off dead than barely alive
(h.l.)
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