Rarely does love end with the same sweetness it started with. More often than not, it ends, leaving a bitter taste and tainted memories.
I shed tears for the loss of a chance at happiness
But I forget that it was never mine, to begin with.
I sigh as he leaves
But I’m secretly glad of that as well.
He moves from flower to flower like a slow breeze
But even as I wait expectantly
I know I was never a flower
I look up at every sound hoping that it is him and not silly me
But always it is someone else and never him.
He smiles and I forget my carefully built walls
But I know I have to build them again and again
He asks and I give
But never get back
He speaks and I forget my thoughts
But never do I find them again
His eyes find mine
But his heart never will...