You left two months ago.
There's no pretty way
There's no polite way
To say what you did.
With barely a word,
You
Packed
Your
Things
And
Left.
I healed. I recovered.
I moved on.
I haven't seen or heard
From you in two months.
I haven't really moved on.
Here I am, wide awake
At three in the morning.
Tell me this: if I've moved on,
Why are my lips begging to
Speak your name?