journal · poetry

The Past

You make me
you make me so
crazy.
You blind me
and you daze me
never fail to amaze me.
And you make me want to be someone
I’ve never been before.
Make me want to do these things
I’ve rarely ever done before.
Maybe you’re just playing,
fooling with me.
Toying with my thoughts
and building me false memories.
But how I love your voice
and the way it says my name.
The way it feels when we’re alone
and no one’s playing any games.
Or making our excuses
and forgetting to be real
or sitting in the silence
forgetting how to feel
all this sorrow that we feel
when we’re alone.
‘Cause sweetheart, we’re always alone.

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