I held my pen,
ready to start writing something new—
something that reflects my life.
I think, and think, and think,
but nothing comes to mind.

Whenever I close my eyes,
her sweet memories cloud my thoughts
like mountains in the middle of June.

I always try to bounce back,
but no matter how high you jump,
it's inevitable that you'll fall.

Now, I’ve lost my touch;
I’ve lost the sparkle in my eyes.
She didn't just leave my life—
she took my pride.

Is that me now?
A soul who roams
in fields of pitch-black solitude.

Her delusion was
that I had moved on,
and mine was
that she would find her way back home.