"it's been almost a year,"
that's what they always say
as an effort to help me forget about you.

but it's been almost a year,
and i think i'm missing you again
and i know i swore to myself
that i'd stop writing about you,
but not enough shreds and scribbles
can erase the fact that to this day
you're still my muse,
you're still the only reason i have
to keep writing,
to this day, you're still here.

maybe you're drowning
in the ink of all my pens,
maybe you're engraved
on the pages of every piece of paper
that i write on,
or maybe your face just naturally resembles
all the clouds i look at,
maybe i've just been hoping that
you're looking up at the same sky as i am,
but i know that your skies
are thousands of miles away from mine,
and no matter what i do,
the sunshine there
just won't replace the rain here.

see, they keep telling me,
"it doesn't have to be this hard,"
"it doesn't have to be him"
but thing is, even during those times
when i didn't want it to be,
still, it's always been you.

and i know that
if it had been anyone else,
i wouldn't lose hours of sleep again
i wouldn't have to worry about
time differences either
i wouldn't have to wait for calls
that are way long overdue
and i certainly won't have any problems
missing you;
but i guess i've always been
attracted to complications.

but it's so late
and my thoughts are in disarray
and since i can't be there
to say these things to you
i ended up writing them down
like how i usually do.

soon, we'll be walking under
the same old skies again;
i guess asking you to be patient
would just be selfish,
you probably just stopped waiting.
or maybe you never even have.

*-djs