An Ode to a Love Lost

Poetry Sunday

Photo by David O. Andersen on Unsplash

So many things
that will never be said.
So many memories
that will never get made.
So many ifs
without a what.
So many whys
and could-have-beens.
This is us,
on the edge of our experiment.
The fear before our first kiss.
The self-fulfilling prophecy.
The doomsday of our love.

Perhaps you were right,
some things need not be said
to be acknowledged.
Sometimes they can’t.
These things rest
in the world of dreams,
happenings without a date,
visions of the past
living in a parallel future.
I know your multiverse nerves would be tingling.

In this world,
we still speak.
And love.
And fall in love.

In this world,
it’s just us.
No one else around,
on our minds,
or in our hearts.
The way it…