I cannot seem to evade this sense of doom,
From the feeling of constantly failing when I was meant to bloom.

the words spilled from her mouth

here i sit,
as my best friend,
tells me
you have another.

i shouldn’t care.
but i do.

no matter how hard i try,
the poetry for you in which i write,
never ceases.
it just keeps pouring out of my soul.
it sometimes seems as if,
the poetry i write for you is what keeps my heart beating.
what keeps me breathing.

but now, what am i supposed to do?
her?
seriously?
do you think she will love you?
do you really think she will love you?
please tell me.

it’s hard to think of you with another
because we used to be so in love with each other.

it’s been a long time since we last spoke,
but it feels as if all the memories of us i have were just made yesterday.

you have another.
who will never,
ever,
love you in the way i could.

but my question for you is,
will you love her in the way you could towards me?

How I yearn for the old days
Grieving the loss of tobacco scent
My grandad carried around
On crisp ironed shirts
As his laughter came quick to mind
And his eyes held memories of a time before
How I miss the feel of his hand in mine
As we walked down familiar streets
His pace unhurried and sure
Feeling safe and secure