I'm not hoping for much
I'm not even hoping for
the good of hope anymore
But if there's a few things
I'd still hope for at all;
I hope you're being haunted
by the things we talked about,
by the jokes only we knew
and laughed about.
I hope you're being followed
by the plans you didn't want to make,
but couldn't say it out loud
I hope my jokes lingers in your head,
I hope my laughter rings in your ear
as you crash in another woman's bed,
I hope you're further away as possible
as you pull her unfamiliar body near.
I hope my hobbies are
now becoming yours,
I hope my multitude of dreams
have inspired you to maybe
finally have at least one of your own,
I hope that all these time, we have grown
whether into each other or apart,
I hope I have became your mountain and your rock,
despite never needing one,
as you have always been your own.
I hope you'll never have to wonder
how the heat of my touch feels like anymore,
I hope you'll never have to wonder
how I smell like and how you'd keep wanting more.
I hope that at night you are not alone
I really hope you are not sulking,
thinking and drinking all on your own.