The Idea Of You | On Hold

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i do still dream about you. almost every day. it starts with us in a familiar place, except i don't go there anymore. like i don't see you anymore.

and the strangeness of it all is us. for we are still the us when we met. not the new you. the you who don't remember me.

in my dreams, we're still the us we were, in that train. where we first met. when you stared at me without any regret in your eyes.

now tell me would you love me less, if i introduced you to the demons in my head?

for you don't love me any more, than before we met.

and that place we used to visit, is forgotten. just like we forgot about us. or maybe we just pretend we did.

cause it's hard to recall all those sad memories, when the only ones i still remember don't include you.

and the ones that do, don't matter. for you come in places i don't visit, with people i don't see anymore. like the petals of some flower stranded inside the book you used to read. gathering dust everyday, all year long.

the one you took to bed every night before you fell asleep. and you don't even remember you still have it.

and i'm sorry if the best part of me is still you.

for even if i can't remember you, i remember your presence, with me. and the idea of you, being mine. and me, yours.

~