And then quite unexpectedly the sound of your laugh unties the knots I have been keeping around my soul your eyes are intense and I’m scared don’t make me regret this
I haven’t forgotten the sound of your voice or the way lines form next to your eyes when you smile Though I’m sure you’ve forgotten those things about me and everyday that passes I think less and less about that or whether or not you think of me or if you lose sleep at night like I did over you The earth still turns the sun still shines and today is still today with or without you
He was my love story. And it seemed as though, to him, I was nothing more than a momentary experience. Not a chapter. Not even a page. Footnotes. I was footnotes. The part no one reads, but seen at the bottom just before turning the page.
Dear JC Thanks for the gift Its good to know I float through your mind every now and then You should have given it to the person who's always on your mind your new favorite person your new best friend At least you would have spelled her name correctly
Of all the things you gave to me you already took back the things that mattered and gave them away to someone else.
One day “hopefully sooner rather than later” (thats what you said in your email) it will be someone else's hands brushing my hair away from my face just before he kisses me someone else's eyes watching me sleep when I can finally let them lay next to me someone else's voice asking me what I'm thinking when I get too quiet and I will be thinking of you wondering if you’re thinking of me knowing you’re not and if you do its when you have nothing better to think about I’ll remind myself it was because you wanted someone who wasn’t me and I will smile at this hypothetical man hopefully he will believe my smile and tell him I was thinking about my favorite poem because you were all my favorite poems even if I wasn’t yours