started off painting walls,
and daydreaming into different universes
then i saw something new, today.
i tried in my best civility,
to be as nice as very few were to me,
but you found it hard to focus on
my costumed puppet face.
it's been months
now, we talk,
i think we're too embarrassed to say it.
it doesn't make sense that we're
embarrassed to say it.
because if there was something to be
embarrassed of,
that means there is something between us.
i was trying to make up for everything i'd done
but you didn't notice it,
you continued taking shots,
and then i noticed that you were ruined, too.
i wish that i could say i was ruined for you, but
i stare at your empty seat when you leave
and wish each remaining second you were next to me,
and i always thought the right thing was sorry, but it wasn't-
and i remember late november setting in that night,
pictured my favorite song that you also like,
playing underneath the cool moonlight,
and i knew what this feeling was,
but i couldn't place my finger on the page,
and before i could figure it out,
the book shut.
wrinkled papers were screaming at me,
and so was every word in our story,
and i was drowning so deep but
then when i rose up
i finally learned how to breathe,
but there is still an empty wound,
trying to get over you,
some scars never heal;
Time doesn't always heal.
i knew what this feeling was,
so i gave you up.
