To the lost one
Dear Tom,
Sitting by window.
Whilst thinking about last night.
I am under the moon again,eyes glazing at the starry sky we painted with our words and promises of hope. My eyes dance at the memory of it all, The small little moments that you never seem too be able to recapture. Are you out there somewhere to revisiting the images, working away with your paintbrush to fill in what I have missed out.
Do you remember the night before this one we did a little mural down by the town centre.
Fooling around like we also do.
You being you and me being me.
Exchanging our life stories.
You telling me about the cruel past bringing a tear to my eye.
But then gradually as these secret meetings continues a substance began to flourish.
I remember my thoughts, in those first few moments which I met you.
No one ever needs to know.
No one ever needs to see.
What it is that’s inside of me.
But now the logic has being removed, all sense of intelligence evaporated away with what I knew.
It wasn’t meant to be like this.
We weren’t meant to start drawing each other dreams.
You never meant to be telepathic I know that now.
You got up and left down just the other day.
No real explanation but some daft little note.
Saying I never really wanted you to know and now I can’t say it.
What an insult it was but I guess you will pop back once your
Issues are resolved.
I don’t quite know how to end this dim little story
I’m not quite sure how to say it’s not over
Not quite sure I can convince you that I’m not hung up
In anyway.
Yours sincerely Mary
P.S your never going to get this.
Sitting by window.
Whilst thinking about last night.
I am under the moon again,eyes glazing at the starry sky we painted with our words and promises of hope. My eyes dance at the memory of it all, The small little moments that you never seem too be able to recapture. Are you out there somewhere to revisiting the images, working away with your paintbrush to fill in what I have missed out.
Do you remember the night before this one we did a little mural down by the town centre.
Fooling around like we also do.
You being you and me being me.
Exchanging our life stories.
But then gradually as these secret meetings continues a substance began to flourish.
I remember my thoughts, in those first few moments which I met you.
No one ever needs to know.
No one ever needs to see.
What it is that’s inside of me.
But now the logic has being removed, all sense of intelligence evaporated away with what I knew.
It wasn’t meant to be like this.
We weren’t meant to start drawing each other dreams.
You never meant to be telepathic I know that now.
You got up and left down just the other day.
No real explanation but some daft little note.
Saying I never really wanted you to know and now I can’t say it.
What an insult it was but I guess you will pop back once your
Issues are resolved.
I don’t quite know how to end this dim little story
I’m not quite sure how to say it’s not over
Not quite sure I can convince you that I’m not hung up
In anyway.
Yours sincerely Mary
P.S your never going to get this.
