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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