There's so much I haven't told you yet,
my finger tips are shaking,
my words aren't working,
where should I even commence?
I remember each day, each moment with you,
do you too?
I reckon every second we spent together,
the way your shoulders are carved,
how my fingertips fit perfectly in every dent they curved.
how running my fingers through your auburn hair,
made me feel bare.
I counted your bruises, while you guided my fingers
I lay against your skin, it almost made me linger.
You held me in your arms, tight and secure
I knew you remember that, now I'm not sure.
I remember our calls, how could you?
you said 'she' didn't love you back,
I said that wasn't true.
It wasn't me, did I do something wrong?
I know she doesn't deserve you,
I thought while staying strong.
Why would you waste your last night with me,
if you didn't care?
I miss you uncontrollably, could you tell?
Harry, don't make me blush,
this never happens
you said you miss me several times,
Am I cold for the absence of replies?
Harry, stop saying these things,
are they even true?
You dressed up today,
was it for me too?
Harry, I'm sorry, I went there that night,
someone else kissed my lips,
they probably tasted your name ignite.
Harryyyy, I'm sooo sorrysy,
I'vee beenm dringking a lottt,
I tohld evheryobe abouszft youpsl,
and how I'd looooovie to kissss you,
I just couldn't stop.
Harry, you were here tonight.
I looked at you, couldn't you notice?
I stayed away from drinking,
I would have caused a ruckus.
Harry, you were the first one,
the first one to wish me a happy birthday,
thanks Harry, you're punctual and perfect.
Harry, I heard about her.
I hope you're happy.
I stayed up until six that day.
I dreamt of you again.
Harry, again I'm so sorry.
I hope you forgive me.
I was distracted today,
happy late birthday.
My beloved Harold, we would have met today.
Do you remember these things?
And how you taught me how to skate?
How my ears won't fit in head phones,
and when my OCD kicks in?
I'm sorry I'm cold, at least I seem to be.
Feelings are tough,
and my heart hides beneath.
You will never read this, so now I'll confess.
I love you Harold,