My heart still aches over you

Not every second, not every day

It aches at the pace of dead leaves

Falling from a tree on an autumn day.

The butterflies in my stomach

Are steadily reviving

Every time you are kind to me

As an answer to my attempts to be closer day-by-day

There’s a lump in my throat

Always I try to mention “we” as “us”.

All the times I remember things I want to forget

But only the day I’m done paying for them.

Perhaps someday forgiveness will come for us both.

Maybe there will come a time when equity

Will be a daily and blissful routine.

There might come a day when we won’t need all the things we miss.

There’s an unquestionable doubt

Whether such a day will come

Or even whether I want it to come.                                              

Will it take much more time than I think I can bear?

Escrito por Bubu às 15h25
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