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poems, prose

Seventeen

Photo Credit: ind{yeah} via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: ind{yeah} via Compfight cc

Once again you resurface
And you draw me in, the essence
Of who you are whispering and trailing
Everything I’ve become since you’ve gone

Ambiguity is my least favorite game
Yet you play it so well, so well
I keep glancing behind my shoulder,
Expecting to see you there

You never say why or how but somehow
You find it such a relief to say “I love you”
Seventeen months made me reach this point
And yet I find myself coming back to you.

Seventeen months ago you walked out. You had little choice on the matter but I still feel negated. It took me seventeen months to become who I am now. And yet.

And yet you keep popping up at such odd times and unexpected moments. That ten PM missed call. The conversations that followed after. And then.

And then you’re back to where you’ve been hiding. I have a pretty good guess where and why but I don’t want to know. All those seventeen months that I have tried to get back my old self might come crashing down on me if I do.

You say “I love you” over and over, at different intervals. Even after you walked out. Even after I tried so hard to become who I am now. I fear that the me I have won back might disappear altogether if I keep glancing behind. But you.

You seem to take comfort and relief in saying “I love you” even after all these months. You seem to need to hear me say I am alone. You say it breaks your heart to see me with someone new. My heart still breaks for you.

Don’t you get tired of loving someone you can never have? I know I do. Don’t we ever get tired of going round and round, knowing it will always end the same way?

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About Anna

A 30-something female awed/delighted/floored with anything horror. Known to kick-start her days with coffee. Indulges in chocolates, blogging, writing, and reading. Attracted to the offbeat and the quirky / the odd and the strange / the weird and the eerie.

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