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Mornings on my own
Still wake up to you on my mind. The feelings never die.
Some days I feel empty, others I feel alive.
But always I wonder why, or what if.
What if we had tried?
Held on a little longer, it’s summer already outside.
Moving on but struggling to stop thinking what if
Love never grows old
neither becomes cold,
nor doth it fall sick
as to become weak.

Nay! not by its strings,
but the lovers themselves.
And as the moonlight came closer
You and I saw us sitting by the sea-side
And as our hearts drew nearer
You and I saw lips that never lied
As I listened to your sweet rhymes
Your tongue moved a thousand times

Between us the birds dropped their feathers
Whispering to themselves about you and me
On the coastal trees heard we their twitters
Hitting everywhere and thus rolling the sea
Your eyes were raptured looking into mine
And I became sure our affection was divine

As we heard the murmurs of the breeze
And the songs of the fronds around the air
I cuddled you and your hairs would freeze
You felt relieved and away ran your fear
Sea-side love seemed like earthly paradise
And its reflection emanated from your eyes

Bolatito, wherever you may be today
I wish you recall us and what we share
Remember how we use to love and play
And how my touch once killed your malaria
I can't wait to see you and repeat a walk
And do again our sea-side twilight talk
By Dr Oasis.
you wrote it down,
what he looked like in the
moonlight
on summer nights miles from home
you get inside
staggering,
foot slipping on wood floors
then bathroom linoleum
the porcelain tub is unrelenting
but you fall asleep there anyway.
droplets clinging to your jeans.
can you even feel it anymore?
you wake up in the morning
neck ache to match your headache
sunlight burns your eyes
and you can’t remember
if you wanted to take a bath
or if you couldn’t make it to bed.
minutes later,
you’ve filled the toilet with remnants
of last night’s party
and you’ve downed two aspirin
washing it down with water from a cup
that you saw as half empty.
you find the napkin from the bar,
absent pen marks turn to words.
you wanted to remember
what he looked like in the moonlight
silhouetted in the pale glow.
you were both sticky with humidity.
there was a lack of breeze
in the middle of all of those trees
as he walked you from the party to the bar.
tiny clouds were scattered across the sky
but not once
did they fall across the moon.
and between his words,
the crickets and the katydids,
there was never a moment of silence.
however,
like dreams,
just because you wrote it down
doesn’t mean that you remember.
so you clench your fist,
napkin crumpled
words wrinkled,
hidden.
phrases incomplete.
you still remember what color his eyes are
but you can’t seem to picture
how they shown under celestial lights
and you can hear his voice in your head
but you can’t recall
what he said to you,
or what you said to him.
or if he held your hand
or if he kissed your lips...
you lie in bed
like laying in graves
at the end of each day.
head sick from the gin
or maybe from him
because lately, it’s become harder to tell.
last night’s clothes lay on the floor
like a body.  
you’ve turned all the lights off
pulled the curtains closed,
but even in the dark,
your sobering mind can’t remember
what happened last night.
I can't believe it took us 6 months to be here
After the talks and moments of laying bare
We wrecked each other emotionally
Just leave already.
I'm not going to cry or croon
Neither would I play Adele's "Someone like you"
I'm going to get over this like it never happened.

— The End —