The subtle image of you has passed my memory.
Like a broken wing and a lost dream, its no longer our destiny.
And I leave my last teardrop in the ocean.
When you find it, keep it.
If its all you have left of me, I have nothing more to say.
Besides a picture in a frame, that you threw in the trash because you thought “it’s better this way.”
You lost our bond, and broke our pact.
Did we ever love? What did we actually know about love.
Fighting a feeling so intense to barely grip the end of something we thought would really last.
A concerning, needing, never let go, kind of grasp.
But our time has passed.
And foggy nights have become clear skies.
With all around us, inconsistently pulling us near, we’ll still not reunite.
Because we’ve had our time.
And your time is no longer mine.