What Once Was
I used to sit beside the lake until sunset, then,
Writing about every love I'd ever lost;
Memoirs of a better, worse, different life.
I wrote because I missed the days where
I could sleep on the roof and count the stars with you.
I sat there, remembering each night with you, like each star;
Each, different from the last, completely unique.
I wrote, angry with myself. I knew that you weren't.
After you left, I was stuck counting old stars.
You were already counting new ones.
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