I will never know why I miss
you or her, or the
friendship we had, the bond
we held. I will never
know why I long for these
back.
When they say that people are like
waves, *they come
they go. They come
they go.* Then why does
it
hurt
when your waters
crash
into me.
I'm not sure it's supposed to. Perhaps
it's the days we
spent laughing and running
through corridors, throwing
fruits
throwing dolls and throwing
words
of promise.
But now I sit
throwing
memories, hoping they'd
return *(The way
waters would.)*
Perhaps it's the game of
catch. Simple as throwing a ball
and having someone throw it
back.
Now I don't have a ball
Or that friend to throw it
back.
If I could turn tides to soft waters
I would. But storms are
stronger. And sometimes you
can't just keep
wishing
For the melancholy to stop