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abdu salih Oct 31
I miss you but I'm letting you go,
cause it won't work out and I can't hold on,
and I'm sure I will come across another,
and I will ask what gives her comfort and what's her favorite color, what's her favorite flower and what food makes her alive,
I will write her poems just like I used to,
and maybe she won’t like them but that’s ok,
maybe she won’t like to read and gaze at the grass,
sit by the sea for hours just to see the clouds,
but that’s ok she won’t have to be like you,
maybe her favorite color not blue,
and crying doesn’t give her comfort and sleep is her enemy,
and she doesn’t write the way you used to do,
maybe she will get seasick like me,
and just listen to music the same as I do,
maybe she won’t speak your language nor understand what it means,
but that's ok she won’t have to be like you,
maybe she won’t like tea as you used to,
and drink coffee as much as I do,
and it’s not compromising but rather idk,
maybe she won’t be like you,
but I hope I don’t see your face everywhere I go,
cause a friend told me it doesn’t have to be a single soulmate, maybe there’s a mate in another soul you meet,
and in every interaction lies a possibility of a different thee,,,
once i had a talk with a friend and she told me that it doesn't have to be a single soulmate, it came as a surprise as i never believed in soulmates, she told me to write about soulmates, and to me its harder than diving into my deepest thoughts, but that what i could come up with hope you like it,
abdu salih Sep 23
I hated old apartments
hated old movies with cheap action
Hated old books with different times
Hated old-time clothes
And hated waking up early
I hated waiting for you
And all the time I’ve wasted
I hated that I thought of you
Tho you never hated anything
I loved that you lived in an old apartment
And looked good in old clothes
I wake up early just to catch your glimpse
And read old books that I never adored
I talked you through the ocean
And walked with you through the sky
Even tho I hated everything.
abdu salih Sep 21
Dry
I wrote for you and only you,
with aching heart and broken soul,
with dreadful mind turned into words,
words filled with love but deeply rooted in burns,
And ink couldn’t reach the tormenting thoughts that were left,  
left untouched behind windows,
inside a house that has no doors,
in a playground with no sound,
and even in rain it left drought,

— The End —