I walk for miles through memories
and see no end to you refusing
to see me even if you tried.
Not even a turn of the head
or a glance of the eye,
and all the battles in my mind
of a friendship that needs
to be left behind,
remind me that
you're not wounded, or broken,
you're not even lost like I am.
So how long will I be thinking of you,
how many years have to go by before
you're finally gone, and the memories
are stolen from my mind?
In the meantime,
I can only be happy
for what I still have.
