No communication, no contact
No anything. Just memories
Memories which I feel don’t mean anything to you.
I couldn’t let go of them.
Memories – the only ones I hang on to when all others around me crumble.

I couldn’t seem to let go of them.
Even when I know its over,
I still think about it, the past.
Now, I don’t think you feel the same way;
I think you’re slowly backing away from me, from us.
But when I think about it, there’s no us.
There never was. Just you and me. You. Me.
You and me, but never us.