A Painful Conversation with Myself

I am finding you in everything,

making notes of what I wish to tell you,

writing letters for you in the pages of my phone,

tracking every thought of “I love you”, “I miss you”, “I’m sorry”,

but you want time alone

strung on the uncertainty

of when or if ever we will talk again,

so I guess my holding on,

tight grasp you’ll text me at any moment to give it another shot,

my tracking of thoughts, emotions, wishes,

are causing an emotional torture,

as I should stop holding out hope

and follow your efforts

of letting go


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