Friday, 13 January 2012

waiting for your return
tracing your picture with my crooked finger
there's nothing left but somehow you linger
you disclosed my heart and possessed my soul
this possession i know creates a growing hole
they say you'll learn to forget with time
how can I move on when you're still not mine? 
A photograph - a memory is all that remains
a rush of blood running through my veins
You don't even want to know me no more 
So I ask myself - what am I still waiting for?

1 comment:

brian said...

that was sad and i know the feeling all too well...i love your writing