Sometimes I like to think that you never existed,
that you were just some figment of my imagination,
a dream that just ended,
that the arches and curves I tried so hard to memorize
were just me being mesmerized by my own creation,
that I was the who sketched the bend of your smile
and the squint of your eyes,
the arc of your hand tucked under my chin,
the sharp angles of your shoulders and torso.
You asked me why I stared so hard;
I just didn't want to forget you.
Now remembering you is like trying to remember a dream
so I like to think that I was just sleeping for far too long
and it all just seemed too real,
because getting used to you no longer being here
is a pain I just cannot bear.
No comments:
Post a Comment