The first line, and the last line are plain, but they're so moving. Your writing puts me in that weird-creative mood of numb. It makes me want to stop time and consume these words and their individual meanings because I feel like there is so much I've missed, even though this is my fifth time reading it through.
I know who this is about. Or at least, I'm pretty sure I know. I hope you're doing alright, a-okay.
I love this/you.
Also, I think it's your birthday?
Happy Birthday darling, we love you very, very, very, very much.
It was absolutely beautiful. I can't really stop reading it. I loved it.
8 years ago
When i first clicked into this, i didnt think i would like it very much because it was in such a big paragraph, but once i started, i couldnt stop! it was amazingly written, and i just love how you started and ended the first stanza, it was definitely my favourite part of the piece.
2 years ago
Today I threw away all my tea.
Which I'm sure sounds silly considering how much I spent but
It didn't cost as much as you meant.
When I take more sips
I remember how you said "the tea taste like my lips."
Today I rewrote all the letters I had sent,
I know I composed a lot and I'm not half as good with words as you but I still hope that maybe the thought will get through.
I wouldn't blame you if your never read them or burned them
or let them collect dust.
I'll just keep writing even if all that becomes of us and them is rust.
At night I feel as heavy as a stone and cold to the bone, as I wonder what you are doing in our apartment alone. That's actually a lie, I picture someone inside, more beautiful and kinder than I.
And I want to be happy that maybe you finally will have a love you deserve but she can't love you like I will, I will, I will.
I try to close my eyes and pretend that out of habit I don't reach out for you, to find your ghost,
I should tie down these hands because they say what I can't admit the most.
I don't know what else we could have done.
I miss the way you looked at me in the morning sun,
You stared at my eyes and I wasn't sure what you saw but I hope these eyes told you the things I didn't know how "You gave them the best view."
I wonder if you think of me as often as I think of you, I swear sometimes I still hear your voice singing to me, I'm sure it's half insanity and mostly my longing for your lullaby.
I've been reading Poe a lot lately and he is still my favorite because he is a genius and because I don't feel so far away from your presence when his words only remind me of us.
I know there is not an "us" now and you never look at me, so I get the feeling that all I am to you is a stranger, but I don't blame you if that is true.
I may as well be a stranger because I don't want to be myself.
Time has passed and I know you no longer want my letters. I still wait by the mailbox everyday, rain, sleet, hail, snow, storm. My heart can not be constructed with out your hearts form.
I bought more tea and I've sent it all to you, not sure what I'm hoping will become of this
I guess I just want to see if your love for tea
or for me,
*My friend wrote this poem in reply to yours. She says you are her favorite poet.