THE BURGUNDY POEM

" I Miss You, And It's Slowly Consuming Me To Death."

Time flies so fast.

Just like the love that didn't last.

I wonder if you think about me every night.

I dream of you, and it keeps me awake at midnight.

I know hope is too far,

But I'm screaming at the star.

To make you go back to our war.

Where it would finally mend our scar.

In the middle of the night, I want to go back to July.

I want to know how you turned my thunderstorms into a peaceful sky.

If I could only change our path that night,

You don't have to doubt and make useless fight.

If you can break the door,

Save me from the cold blooded floor.

Tell me that you'll be better than before.

I'll be waiting till January twenty twenty four.

I would, because I still want you to be mine.

We would be more than just fine.

We would never have to walk from a very thin line.

Leaving me on January nine.

I would call you on the phone,

Just to tell you "please come back home."

Come closer,

It's not yet too late to be my lover.

I screamed, "Please don't go."

Yet you still left, but I love you so.

I'm lost, locked in a cage.

Inside of it, makes me feel I'm going to age.

If we just talked over that stupid thing,

My heart wouldn't be crying.

Am I just your August fling?

Or a girl that, once you think of her, makes your heart sting.

You keep bothering me in my lucid dreams,

I don't mind, it's better than looking at the screen.

I would be lying if I told you that I closed our chapter,

Telling everyone that it's over.

There's no day or night that I didn't miss you.

Hoping you missed me too.

Did killing me just kill you the same?

That's why you're letting them toss you the blame.

Was I needy?

Why did I never get the chance to be treated like a lady?

And it's so shady,

Because, in the end, he wasn't ready.

Maybe it's the trust that we lack.

That's why you suddenly pushed me back.

Maybe you were a coward.

Don't want to take the risk of moving forward.

These past few weeks, I've been dying.

But at the same time, still surviving.

I just hope you'll call one day.

And I will tell you everything that I want to say.

This is the last poem.

Memories may be blurred, but I still made a masterpiece of them.

I haven't dated anyone since then.

Ever since you left, I never found any interesting men.

Soon you'll turn nineteen.

While I just turned eighteen.

Our old love feels like I'm seventeen.

But it's just a ghost that wanted to be seen.