And so I write of love
Thinking it’s the sane thing to do,
Of over-thinking
Which overpowers the other,
Your love (your past love)
Or mine.
Everyday seemed like a day after the other,
Only, that they move backwards,
Only, that they grow much painful
As days go by, as nights
Are even worse.
Nothing hurts
Like a definite goodbye,
Unless it was an indefinite one.
I know for sure
That I could have you back.
I love you so much that I miss you
And how I struggle
To make you understand
That I only miss you
Because I love you.
And so my pen tilts from here,
Not knowing what to say,
Only knowing what to feel.
And we’re apart...
We’re once were.*
© 2015 J.S.P.
Edited.
