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Poetry

Two years in the making. Two years of my life put into words. There is nothing more left to say.

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by Dynamo1203

by Dynamo1203

Do you remember the first time we spoke?

I don't

I didn't think it would be a big deal

But I've been obsessed with finding out

I rummage through old conversations

Trying and trying to reach the beginning

But with no luck

I do not know why I must know

Why it has become an obsession

Why I try so hard to find something

That did not even matter at the time

Why oh why am I so obsessed with the start

Maybe it's because I want to start over