Sunday, July 9, 2017

Wasted.

I miss you today, though I know that I shouldn't.

Not purposefully.

You were in my dreams last night.

Making sacrifices. That you wouldn't when you could've.

Not that I asked it. But it was implied.

I miss you today, though I know that I shouldn't.

I find myself asking, if you ever miss me.

Do I haunt your dreams? Do you think upon waking

of those sacrifices. That you never would make.

Of the ways we went wrong. Yes "we" but you mostly.

Of time that we wasted. Though not quite a waste.

Pausing to wonder what could've, what should've.

Wasted. Though not quite a waste.

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