Sitting across from you now,
You can’t even begin to fathom how much I still feel for you,
We help each other to write about others,
Yet, every time we touch,
It’s not a flame of desire,
More like a flame that consumes me,
Until I can’t help but remember the past,
Telling me you loved me,
That Saturday at my house,
And, you never really noticing that I never said it back to you,
I remember our first two kisses,
All the jokes and the laughs we shared,
The walk that ended up by the bridge,
And the kiss we almost had,
All those times when I stared into your gorgeous green eyes,
And knew that I was the only one you adored,
But now, here we are,
You’re reading me more poetry,
That you wrote about him,
Always about him,
That, I know I can’t change,
But, I don’t have to like it,
We are who we are,
So, I let you be who you are,
You can change the color of your hair, or eyes,
But you will always be Will to me,
This is insanity!
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