yesterday
What do I have to go on? Is it the thousands of words of love that echo in every corner of my heart when I remember you? Or is it how those echoes don't pierce and shatter each muscle? Is it the shadow of your touch across my skin? Or is it the way I feel nothing of it? Where do I go now? If not your arms when I'm frightened of the dark, Do I seek mine in this dread? If I don't run to you... To whom do I run? What do I feel? Do I miss you, hate you, love you, call for you all at the same time? Yes. Every fibre of my being wrestles to hold onto you, While my heart — already beaten down in love — lets you go like just another yesterday. How could you be just another yesterday? Three-hundred and fifty nine days that I would never cry for? How could the remembrance of you not rip me apart? How does seeing your face be just another event of my day? Am I content with you losing me? Will I be okay with losing you? I laugh at my insincerity. Of course , if you ask me to— I'll c...