I'm over him But how can I be When my hearts still skips a beat Every time I pick up my phone
But my mind's moved on And so has my soul I'm done writing letters On the margins of every Biology paper In blotted ink Overlapping Until they don't mean anything
For now, it is forwards Until I find someone To truly give me A reason to pause
I'm not done. The wishing, the hoping, the pining. But I'm done waiting. Onwards.