OUR LOVE.

Our love.
Endless lonely days, long yet sleepless nights.
Thinking of the love that we once had.
We cannot get it back; we lost it in the binding of a book with many pages.
Now in the final chapters of creased discolored times of many ages.
We can’t re-write the text again; the letters and the timeframe appear blurred.
The times I wrote, “I miss you,” letters never sent, words you never heard.
Our love lies undisturbed, yet not forgotten.

I can’t begin to tell you what you do to me.
Overwhelming feelings I’d forgotten are renewed.
Got to try to pull myself together, desolate and hurt.
Too wrapped up in your love it makes me shudder in the cold and cry out in the night.
Both knowing this is not as it was meant to be.
A love too strong to contemplate, the end of you and me.

I hear your voice, and it makes me want to cry.
The love we had, we trampled to the ground.
Discarded, and forgotten, like the baggage we mislaid.
For someone to discover, calculate its value, then consign it to the vault of “Lost and found.”
Sadly, made an exit, quietly it died.
Abandoned, and forlorn, resting like the embers in the fire.
Longing for your love to reignite.
I guess I’m just a different kind of man.
A man too weak to fight for you.
Hopeless, but brave before the fall.

Too cowardly and proud to make you understand.
Too scared to shout, “I love you!” Scared to shout too loud.
Too weak to stop you leaving me or take you by the hand.
Instead, I watch you walk away, tracing every step you make.
I watch you blend into the color's, and then you disappear into the crowd.
We lost it long ago, pushed it to the backseat of the car.
Left as a reminder, forgotten yet uncovered.
Lost along the journey, close at hand, too far.
A time we can’t reclaim, despondent, not to be repeated.
A gentle understanding of each other.
A quiet affirmation our love remains defeated.