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Missing names in my letterbox— but mostly yours.
And I have no right to claim it, no reason to expect
your name to arrive again.

I try to write it out— all that it was between us.
A love so bizarre, so hard to define, yet somehow…
energizing. But I want to cut the ties my eyes have
to their tiredness— but I’m still oddly entangled
in the thought of falling asleep to the memory of you.

Tired! Tired!

But no rest compares to you, or the rest I see.
And maybe—
just maybe— the measure I hold love to now
is too tight, too closed, to give anything new
even a chance.
Lalit Kumar May 3
I cut my hair today and you'll never know,
I held it together in that salon,
but I cried the whole way home, they told me life would go on,
but I wasn't prepared for what that meant,

crying at every change whether it's your hair or losing friends
you cry because it hits you,
you're still growing up,
and you have to do it now without someone you really loved,

little things will happen,
and big things will too,
and every time I will look to the sky,
and hope you saw them too,
I go over the list in my head every single day,
all of the things you'll never know,

things I'll never get to say, like I cut my hair today,
and when I looked in the mirror,
I loved the girl I'm becoming and hated that you'll never meet her.

— The End —