facta, non verba.
I used to write your name.
But now it feels rather strange just writing your initials.
I guess, yes, maybe.
Perhaps I’ve grown tired.
Sick. Worn - out. Dead beat.
You were no more than a child.
Naïve, no, you’re not.
Sure you recognize the moon. The sun.
Bet you know Venus. And perhaps, Pluto.
But their orbits. Did you think about their orbits?
No, you didn’t. Conceivably, you still don’t.
I would have lingered on. Really.
Succumbed. Yielded.
Then again, you didn’t deserve that.
Although, I wouldn’t have cared either.
But the whole thing was plain too much.
Lucid. Throbbing.
I tried not to see it, though. Or hear or feel, in the least.
I was strong. I was.
I am not anymore.
I used to write your name.
Writing it felt so familiar.
Made me feel good.
About you. About them. About myself.
Reading it, nonetheless, was discrete. Different.
Sick. Worn – out. Dead beat.
Succumbed. Yielded.
I was strong.
I am not anymore.
About you.
About them.
About myself.
No. No, not myself.
It was all you.
You and your world.
You. Just you.
Because I used to write your name.
I have forgotten how to write my own.
But now it feels rather strange just writing your initials.
I guess, yes, maybe.
Perhaps I’ve grown tired.
Sick. Worn - out. Dead beat.
You were no more than a child.
Naïve, no, you’re not.
Sure you recognize the moon. The sun.
Bet you know Venus. And perhaps, Pluto.
But their orbits. Did you think about their orbits?
No, you didn’t. Conceivably, you still don’t.
I would have lingered on. Really.
Succumbed. Yielded.
Then again, you didn’t deserve that.
Although, I wouldn’t have cared either.
But the whole thing was plain too much.
Lucid. Throbbing.
I tried not to see it, though. Or hear or feel, in the least.
I was strong. I was.
I am not anymore.
I used to write your name.
Writing it felt so familiar.
Made me feel good.
About you. About them. About myself.
Reading it, nonetheless, was discrete. Different.
Sick. Worn – out. Dead beat.
Succumbed. Yielded.
I was strong.
I am not anymore.
About you.
About them.
About myself.
No. No, not myself.
It was all you.
You and your world.
You. Just you.
Because I used to write your name.
I have forgotten how to write my own.
