I keep a little book, no bigger than the size of my hands under my desk, and whenever I think of you I write in it. I write to you, this one-way communication doesn't feel like I'm really reaching you, but it's all that I have left of you, isn't it?
So now I write about my day in this little book. I write about all the things I was never able to tell you, all the things I wish I might've said, like how I needed you more than you might think.
Do you know what I did? I promised myself that I wouldn't contemplate reaching out to you until all these pages are filled. It keeps me busy in a way, but it also keeps me from dialing your number too... it's scary how I miss you so terribly on some days and maybe not at all on others.
Isn't it odd? is this what missing someone should feel like? did I ever really like you? or did I just build up an ideal and forced it on you, like it was your problem.
Those are things I wake up thinking about on some nights when I can't sleep, I think of you.
When I'm having a hard time, I think of you.
When I think of you, I imagine how you're fine without me.
There's a sparrow on the cover of this little book, you know? sometimes I wish I could be as free as this little sparrow, free enough to dare to like you the way you deserved.
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Time, Time Stopped
PoesíaDon't let your mind wander too far, for it will lose its selves - soul, thought and body. A soul that has lost its body is like a cat straying until it cannot pick up the familar scent of home anymore. It never returns, falling slave to a human God...
