I'll think of you every once in a while. Not at all as much as I used to, of course, when my brain was wired to all things you. No, that took a long time to break from, that focus.
Your scent. Your warmth. Your smile. The delight of your laughter. That casual, tender stroke of hair. I'll catch an echo of those and then there you are, alive in me for a brief moment.
Your scorn. Your dismissal. Your eyes, so striking, made ugly in anger. Hurt. Pain. Broken trust. Mistrust. Distrust. Banishment/exile. All that, too, comes roaring back when you pop in my mind.
You jolt and then I put you out, though, yes, sometimes, of course, I let you linger and I wonder on what might, what could have been.
If it could have been repaired, it would have. It took a long time, too long, to let you go and move on. The hardest lesson is what is is what is and always has to be.
And yet, you flash in every once in a while.
Your scent. Your warmth. Your smile. The delight of your laughter. That casual, tender stroke of hair. I'll catch an echo of those and then there you are, alive in me for a brief moment.
Your scorn. Your dismissal. Your eyes, so striking, made ugly in anger. Hurt. Pain. Broken trust. Mistrust. Distrust. Banishment/exile. All that, too, comes roaring back when you pop in my mind.
You jolt and then I put you out, though, yes, sometimes, of course, I let you linger and I wonder on what might, what could have been.
If it could have been repaired, it would have. It took a long time, too long, to let you go and move on. The hardest lesson is what is is what is and always has to be.
And yet, you flash in every once in a while.
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