The Letter I Never Sent
I don’t know what to say to you;
I have this feeling to reach out-
Yet, why does it matter?
I no longer have affection for you,
not in the slightest.
I don’t want you back-
so why does the sight of you bother me?
I become paralyzed with nervousness:
unable to speak
as I randomly pass you in the street,
I’m waiting for closure:
I have a reoccurring dream where
you and I have a decent conversation-
nothing more than a single friendly occasion.
If this came to fruition
I could let go, and maybe feel whole again.
At least, I tell myself this:
it’s not certain.
There’s no way for me to know your perspective
without making small communication;
I’d like to break this standstill
and acknowledge your existence
to be friendly, in case I’m to run into you again.
I just want to know how you are,
get rid of this awkwardness-
not re-kindle a relationship, or reminisce in our past friendship-
Simply, this is an invitation towards conversation
How can I not be somewhat interested
in the most recent life of someone
I grew with?
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