I don’t know whether at once
She was happy or infuriated
When I saw her, as I’ve seen her cry before
But in joyous confusion I consoled her
Caressing her fear and loneliness aside
Along with the hate raging inside her tears

Talks for hours consumed us yet again
And sleep never followed long into the night
Replaced with eons of lost laughter and joyous memories
At least… that is what I’d wish for her.

I do admit that this is only just a dreamt folly
As she continues her days without thought
Of the mistaken one that longs yet for her
But unable to show outside of simple lines
Known, unknown, cared and uncared
These words reach out to grasp a wisp of sound

Tumbling longingly into the memories once had
Now without thought I myself write about her
In mistaken hopes of gaining that which should not be gained
To heal a decade of wounds that cannot be healed
And so I only write, neither with name nor truth but my own
and hope her life prosper without falling back into my arms

At least… that is what I wish for her.

© 2014