Still knowing that one voice among hundreds of others is the part I believe most. That piece of missing someone doesn't switch off, and the poem doesn't pretend it can.
Ice between us
Thought
Thought
Still knowing that one voice among hundreds of others is the part I believe most. That piece of missing someone doesn't switch off, and the poem doesn't pretend it can.
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And if I want you, will you want me back?
And if I text you, will there be a desire in you to answer me?
And if I love you, will you ever love me
again?
What crosses your thoughts when your eyes meet mine?
Do you desire me?
Or do you just reject me in silence?
Sometimes, I wish I could understand what happens in your heart when you see me.
Does it warm up with my presence,
or does it remain indifferent,
as cold as the distance that exists between us?
I believe I still like you,
even knowing that your love no longer belongs to me.
And maybe that is the hardest part to accept:
I cannot imagine that I will ever love anyone else
with the same intensity that I once loved you.
My heart still looks for you in the crowd,
in that place where our paths, every now and then, meet.
My mind still recognizes your voice
even when it gets lost among hundreds of others.
Why?
Why do I still feel all of this
if you no longer feel the same?
Explain it to me.
Or at least help me understand
how to leave behind someone who still remains inside us.
Help me take you out of my thoughts,
to silence your voice inside my head,
to make my heart understand that
which my reason accepted a long time ago.
Life no longer has the same light as before.
You were my day.
You were my night.
Now, you are the winter.
Cold, distant,
even with those who still wish to stay by your side.
Perhaps that is my greatest exhaustion:
to keep wanting you
even in the face of the ice
you have built between us.
Thoughts
-
Still knowing that one voice among hundreds of others is the part I believe most. That piece of missing someone doesn't switch off, and the poem doesn't pretend it can.
-
The winter turn is the one that stuck with me. Day and night first, then winter, like the seasons ran out before the feeling did.
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And if I want you, will you want me back?