There was no need to write poems about you when you dashed me away.
I hum melodies as I pace up and down the isle.
Thinking about my fantasies of us and memories of our past that have me in denial.
During the still moments of silence when I have a break from all that I reminisce
Like having picnics under the a shady tree…
And how you love waking up and making pancakes for me.
I energize my soul… My being.
See I’m just not ready to talk about what I’m feeling.
So I wrote years worth of poetry and love stories for you.
To remember who we were and how we felt.
The most ironic part is that you didn’t have a clue.
I guess that’s what happens when you play the cards you have dealt.
I wrote because I don’t know how to save us.
Honestly, if you called me right now I swear I would cuss!
..It’s not that I want this anger to stay.
I wish you would just acknowledge that you hurt me, but your pride is in the way.
I don’t need you to beg for mercy or forgiveness.
Don’t get me wrong, I expect a big gesture, … a hug, … a forehead kiss.
And lastly a pinky promise…
That I can depend on your persistence
… for once.