My head on your shoulder, riddle me this:
Will you miss me when I leave?
Please miss me
Oh, here’s a thought:
Let’s do something crazy
Will run away with me?
Yeah, you heard me right the first time, baby.
Author: Mark Atong
We can count one, two, three years
I am not against you finding somebody else
If that’s the way we’re healing
That’s the direction we’re heading
All I know is
As I walk every day in my routinary life
I miss you
And it makes me miss you more every time I think how much I miss you
I remember how we are on sidewalks
You always walk beside me
You’re on the side where the vehicles pass by
You’d say that I’ll be safer that way
And I blush and feel how I am so lucky
Love grows, but it also ends
Love makes everything right
But it is not everything
There were times that I asked God
To help me unlove you because it hurt so bad
I bathed in hurt until it hurt a little less
I cried through hell until there were no tears left
You’ll easily get used to being not by his side
Even when he was near he made you wonder where he was at
You have made it out of his playground, carefully set up that summertime
Give yourself a break and not allow him to break you in two again this time around
Finally, I am in the point of my life where
I have a lower tolerance for projections of insecurities and overthinking
I am done with loyalty being measured by the speed of text responses
And I have no room for you telling me to avoid certain people
Because me befriending them makes you uncomfortable
Unless we are another kind of a game,
The one you call special
The one where you think you are good at but lose every single time
Are we the kind where “Good game!” is where it boils down?
You only choose the game you can win
But no, not this time
Touch me like he never did before
Like I always wanted to be touched by him
Like the touch, I now can only dream