Remember those days and nights
when we used to text each other
every minute that we had?
When we shared every little stupid
insignificant thing and it was
mildly embarrassing but still
I did it anyway.
Telling you all the worst parts of me.
I figured if you knew
all the dumb stuff about me
(yeah, so I can’t stand
my feet getting wet *shudder*)
and you still wanted to talk
then maybe we could be friends after all.
But maybe friendship isn’t all I feel.
Maybe I jumped in.
Maybe you make me a better person.
So, I still text you with stupid shit.
But your responses become
fewer and fewer.
Perhaps I overwhelmed you
with my clinginess.
Perhaps you’ve found someone better.
I’ll admit it wouldn’t take much
to attain that particular goal.
(Does she randomly send you
pictures of yogurt too?)
Perhaps I’m too moody and
self-absorbed and obnoxious.
Or maybe life has made you
too busy for me.
That’s okay, I guess.
I can understand.
There are a lot of obligations and
people pulling for your attentions.
Now I’ve become one of those people.
Just another one lining up
for your affections and attentions.
I yearn for you.
So, here I sit.
Thinking of conversations we’ve had.
And conversations I want to have but
I’m still unable to bring myself to ask or
Maybe sometime in the next hour or so,
I’ll cross your mind again.
Maybe, just maybe, you’ll text me.
And bring a smile to my face.
Oh, and PS: I miss you.
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Poet and Artist ✫ Jay Mora-Shihadeh
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