You see, our story began on a hot summer day. I was so fond of your courage and clever word play. Our sweet innocence cripples my heart like clay. You scattered like leaves dancing in a spring breeze in may. There was not much I could do, our hearts were on cue to my dismay.
I thought we were destined to be fleeting, and the timing I did dread. You said the world was right ahead of you, lie waiting for your tread. To make marks on its surface, to find purpose to your perfect. But you said I was worth it, and I was uncertain if i was being misled.
w/passion like gasoline, in a sudden flicker we were inflamed. It couldn’t have been quicker, our love framed the picture we claimed. But all of the posing in the world, could still capture your pain. It wasn’t your chapter, but the narration was held captor in vain.
I miss the need to be squeezed and pleased by the warmth of your sleeves. But then I remember the immaturity and insecurity that you conceived. Was the reason that you loved me caused by thinking I was naive? Or was it the season to believe in something you only could receive?
Did your loneliness turn into greed from the need of affection? I mean you sell weed, you’re not really good with correction, I’m not pointing fingers, I know how you are with deflection.
It's just you scammed and you snaked, and I'm not good with the lies. I just can’t handle the fake, but what's worse is goodbyes. So maybe this isn’t the ending, but the preface to what's pending. No longer our story, but the transition to our own happy endings.
Whether we are destined to be, its best wishes I’m sending, Nothing could measure to the value of your part in my story I’m defending, Through it I learned a lot, and that's the source of its glory, no pretending,
& It's better to revisit once more time passes, as it ages, I’ll always treasure the memories scattered through the pages. To someone who I’ll always carry deep in my heart, You know who your name is, & you’ve been there from the start.
With all my love, Michelle Barouta