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2011-12-30 - 8:39 p.m.

It's not maudlin, my love.
It's just how my feelings run,
even when not everything is said and done.
You know that you're always the one.
You're on my mind all the time.
As bloody cliche as this sounds,
I hate the thought of you gone.

It's not maudlin, my love.
It's just my emptiness within.
Can't you tell just how long has this been?
Is this a sign of a dying dream?
You're out of touch, it seems.
Even your presence leaves me with such cold feelings.
Doesn't that show us something?

It's not maudlin, my love.
No, it's not that at all.
It's the fact that I'm about to fall,
crashing to the ground or thrown against the wall.
You used to make me feel so tall.
Now you're making me feel small.
This is more than just a wake-up call.

It's not maudlin, my love.
I've been missing you,
even when you're around.
I need you,
but you're often nowhere to be found.
Enough is enough,
because we no longer share the common ground.

It's not maudlin, my love.
Maybe I'm just asking for too much,
although I don't think it's a lot.
Otherwise, we wouldn't be where we are,
together but apart.
'My love',
am I still entitled to even call you that?

The Author/QB

 

 

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