words are like spilt waterDear you,
Unspoken words spilt from your lips as all around us, promises mingled with the bittersweet tinge of memories saturate the moist air. Whispers of could-have's and has-been's stung my eyes as I feigned a smile.
I'm rigid with all the things I want to say but can't. So instead of telling you all the important things like I love you, I'm sorry and do you miss me? I meet your eyes but not quite and say, hey you. And although we will switch off the lights and go our separate ways I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, you wanted to say more than 'hey'.
paper heartsDear you,
Today I saw the guy who'd pried my heart from my chest cavities with flimsy fingers laced with even flimsier promises. We stood there, best-friends-turned-strangers, and I found myself tripping over memories of had-beens. And just as I was about to swallow my pride-again-and throw a last-ditch effort to grasp the faltering threads of our friendship, I remembered what he said that night:
"I don't think things will ever go back to the way they used to be."
And you know, I didn't think this was possible, but my heart broke a little more.