Poetry in a diary

Mine,dear

Dear Job,
Here I am,in the study room,tryin' not to sob.
There you are,studying in the library.
I'm saving another photo of yours in my phone's gallery.
Is it too late to take my words back?
Didn't mean to say that,think I had gotten into a brain hack.
Said, I'm sorry.
So,say,'its fine' or do you want me outta the scenery?
Would it be us on a date with your very first salary?
Write me a love song,will you?
And I'll write another one just for you.

We've things in common.
Greet me,calling 'dear' again,come on.
I miss how you used to show up on your own terms,
simple texts and insomniac nights are of no harms.
I can't remember what colour you wore on the first day.
Was it in the month of May?
It probably might be June,I guess.
I needed a break from all the stress.
You were there
to give me company, to share.
But I can recall the scenario in my head.
I was in my 2nd year of Med.
Later on,you'd left the inside of me empty.
Moon lit nights in the city.
The wide open sky above,laying on the grass of a meadow.
You left me feeling quite low.
The highway with fast riding cars.
Soft music,plugged in ear buds, on the rooftop under the night stars.

5.09.24