I cannot help but think about you.
I cannot help but wish with all my self that your arms were around me.
I look back to each touch and try to put the memories together so I could feel it again. I close my eyes, tears rolling down, I try to recreate your embrace.
And the same questions haunt me each time—am I in love with you or the way you make me feel? Do I want you to forever stay or do I want the loneliness to never come back? Do I need your attention or just attention?
Time has passed. You've moved on. Yet everything you say to me echoes in my head and I constantly look for signs that you still remember. Do you still remember how it felt to be an "us"?
Do I want this? Am I repeating a mistake? It's all a mess of feelings that I don't quite comprehend. I'm still young. Too young.
I survive with only scraps of your affection. Hope to God I won't regret the choices I make.
I'm not yours anymore, however much I may want it to still be that way.
YOU ARE READING
Identity I
PoetryA sequence of poems I made throughout the years. Just something to read when you're bored (I recommend "TIME" and "LOVE POEM?"). If you're looking for emotional, try "SLOUGH" or "ENDS MEAT."
