I’m here,
in the same place
I choose to be,
doesn’t matter where,
the coffee shop,
my chair,
I’m in the same place
still wishing,
yearning,
every day,
my side of town
lately
is the only satisfying
reason
to keep my pace
with who I am,
doesn’t mean that
on the weekend,
on the hours,
the minutes,
the seconds of our lives,
I want her
to stay as far away as she can,
no it doesn’t mean that at all,
means in a winter’s day,
she would melt the ice,
keeps our lives
apart
in a quiet illusion,
what was,
what once is,
what can I possibly do,
say
to imagine
otherwise,
when all I wish,
is the door,
to open
into my arms ..
in the same place
with her,
alone.
apersonaljourney - stories of love 