Where do you go with your broken heart in tow?
What do you do with the left over you?
How do you know, when to let go?
Where does the good go?
It's love that leaves and breaks.
Why cant they leave it?
Why cant they stop bringing it up?
It makes me miss you so much all over again. Why? I've been asking that question since the day you left. Why? It's a cursed question. Maybe one day you'll tell me. Forget it. I'll never understand you. And they all think I've moved on. If I have I wouldnt be alone right now. I have not. I've just learnt to live with it.
I miss everything. Your presence, your touch, your warmth, your security, your body pressed against mine, your smile pressed against mine, our palms together, fingers intertwined. We used to hold hands under the lunch table and you'd carve "I love you" in my palm and we'd smle at each other. I wanna say it but it'll ruin me. I still love you, even though you've moved on and found another.
{ fin }