January 21, 2018
As if time is not ticking, the memory of you never get old.
There has been too much thing I have kept my self, for you, to be told.
If it was only for those reasons, you should have stayed.
You had never once, said truly how you felt.
You had never once tried, to even say what you liked.
That way, you let us, be the word that never completed.
Your way, to be used to not saying words, to be used to agree of what I decided, shouldn't let me left distrait.