​Some Days I feel like telling You to stay where you are, and others I feel like asking you to come back.

I’m so tired of standing still-

and of waiting.

But even if you come back.

Our talks wouldn’t be the same, uncertainty has a certain awkwardness.

I know I’m not

the same that is-

Or certain for that matter of anything anymore.

How could I be when I was left?

Not even for someone else but just because you didn’t think I was good enough.

Freindship does not prevail, it cultivates and yours was infertile.

How could I be the same after something like that?


Author: tanishmonga

There are poems inside you which paper can't handle.

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