We both drifted apart after summer.
Less than close friends, more than strangers.
I believed that I am no longer affected by you.
Until I had it confirmed.
I saw you, walking with her.
Shy steps and quiet conversations.
Hesitant to bring back what you once had.
What you once were
There was no ache or whatsoever.
Just empty nonchalance.
I had my suspicions how you both started anew,
Only too delusional to accept the truth.
Now, I have let myself savor harsh truths.
That in the end we were less than close friends, more than strangers.
-Weary Writer of Hearts to the Clueless boy inlove
YOU ARE READING
it's one-sided, so I'll hide it.
PoetryThings I'll never tell you, but share to the world in anonymity.
