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A Poem for the One who Got Away.
You and I are a desert
Hot by day, cold by night
Magical yet scary
Surrounded yet alone
You and I are a mirage
The could have been, the should have been, the never have been
You and I are a book, an unfinished one
The one that stays on a shelf for years, undusted
The ink is faded, the papers are torn, the bookmark reeks of memories
You and I are a drug, the good one, the bad one
The one that lessens the pain, the one that creates it
You and I—there’s no you and I
We’re a mirage in a desert
The faded words in a book
The placebo.
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