A
Gentle
Goodbye

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My every bruise mounted up wisdom.

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An inescapable thought
A small forever
In any version of reality
You remain my unfading tune

Which note did I mess up
in your string?
I beg you not to answer
That would be best for both of us.

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I finally let go of the reason you let go.

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You called me a rose
Protecting me with your thorns
But I always knew I was the thorn
You withered.
I still prick.

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His, 'You always make me feel special',
makes me feel special.

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I am always speaking about you...
with or without an audience.

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Some people come in your life
with drama free of charge.

But you can always vacate
your seat at the audience.

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If anyone would write me
the way I write for you
I would have stayed.

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I did arrive.
And waited...
To see you.
But
You didn't come;
Thinking I wouldn't come.

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