Crossfire

I no longer want to scream or tear at my chest.
But my love for you remains in a crossfire between my head and my heart.

It lingers in my memories; it dwells in the depths of our years.
Pale yellow sunlight streams through the windows of my soul
at the thought of the people we used to be,
the laughs we used to share.

And I don’t know what to do because you are not you
and I am not me.
And somewhere our old selves are lost,
searching for some semblance of us —
something that makes sense again.