I wrote you a poem, but I know you’ll never read it,
Every word seems breathy and full of some self serving purpose
I really just want to tell you …
But it’s hard when I know it’s been so long.
The cracks have been buried deep yet sometimes still they quake,
Shaking violently only to remind me that they still exist,
Sending the words we said ricocheting around these dusty memories.
I want to believe these brief launches into the past
Are more than just old heart ache taking hold
But I know I’m just selling myself a daydream.
I know I’m reading too much into that look in your eyes.
I know you never think of me.
Shameless self promotion incoming – go check out The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch
There’s a new wonderful post up by Bisma, My Words, My Savior