I looked up
our past conversations,
they were short, quick, but still
happier than we are now and I
read the letters you sent me,
the ones I never
gave a reply to,
and somehow it aches me in
nostalgic bones and breaths.

I would bring you
to places, and my
parents would love you,
but of course, you're
never the one to be
rude or unkind,
so everyone loved you and
so did I, but
time killed us.

Time killed us, we really
couldn't do anything because
a change
is frightening,
a change is
haunting and
just as permanent.

I loved your
smile because
it was everything I
could never be,
and your words were the
creation of all the kindness,
happiness in the
slumbering world,
but it couldn't save me, your smile
wouldn't save me, and you
knew so you
never sent another letter.