page / 365

I miss you so much

1 year, 365 days

 

Summer, fall, winter, spring

I draw you, 365

I stare into the cracking mirror and

Cry, 365

Longing is like a pine tree

Like a desert, a daily drought

“Time cures all wounds”?
That’s a lie, 365

 

That striking summer heat

Made it hard for me to distinguish sweat from tears

Crying along to the sounds of the waves

Saturated with sea salt

Falling like the autumn leaves

Blowing like the cold breeze

Wandering here and there

Before realizing it’s already November

 

Kept holding off on cleaning my room

Until tomorrow

Before it became a year

Kept staying up all night

Like meals l I had to eat thrice a day

Forget that I’m forgetting

Erase what I’m erasing

I miss you

 

I hate you so much

I still long for you

But if I take on every day, one page at a time

Then maybe that tear-stained calendar will be

At 365

 

Summer, fall, winter, spring

I draw you, 365

I stare into the cracking mirror and

Cry, 365

Longing is like a pine tree

Like a desert, a daily drought

“Time cures all wounds”?
That’s a lie, 365

 

Winter, and finally I think

I can forget you and move on

Snow, the image of you smiling

As white snow drifted down

Spring, the longing makes a new sprout bud

Eventually, the flower blossoms as though for the world to see

The evening-primrose bloomed in the spring

Because it got tired of waiting

 

Kept holding off on cleaning my room

Until tomorrow

Before it became a year

Kept staying up all night

Like meals l I had to eat thrice a day

Forget that I’m forgetting

Erase what I’m erasing

I miss you

 

I hate you so much

I still long for you

But if I take on every day, one page at a time

Then maybe that tear-stained calendar will be

At 365

 

If the end of my life means I can be in your arms

I think I could die, here and now

If you told me you’d come back,

That one sentence would be enough to make me wait for years and years

 

I hate you so much

I still long for you

But if I take on every day, one page at a time

Then maybe that tear-stained calendar will be

At 365

 

Summer, fall, winter, spring

I draw you, 365

I stare into the cracking mirror and

Cry, 365

Longing is like a pine tree

Like a desert, a daily drought

“Time cures all wounds”?
That’s a lie, 365