It’s been years.
I thought time would wash
over the muddled traces
But it has only left a resentment to the words.
The sense of longing
never quite leaves my chest.
So I pickup the painful memories scattered
here and there.

even though the features I knew so well are fading,
I can’t help but search for your figure.
Your eyes.
At the bus stop, on the street, in the corners of bookstores,
even though I know I won’t see you.

It’s fine though, because when the moon shines through my bedroom window,
you haunt every part of me.
And the words I resented are so clear.

If only I had spoken these three words.. would things have been the same?