 | It is like a never-ending cycle,
With no definitive solution, but for me to let go.
Everyday, I battle with my pride,
I’ve lost track of my instincts now,
Not sure whether to peruse or to let my feeling subside?.
The pain I feel is like a pang of hopelessness,
To contact you is instant gratification, but serves only to prolong much needed heeling, which is inevitable as we will never be together.
On balance, I would trade these feeling of loss with the feelings of the frustration I felt when we would argue and fight.
Even that is a preferable pick
TU me manqué, and it’s making me sick.
Written by Sarah Somers
Submitted by Sarah Somers |  |