iaremunyee

The misadventures of the heart and sometimes, the stomach.

Dear John.

 

Gone are the nights where my life revolves around your phone call and our chats online,

Gone are the messages that I wake up to and the kiss goodnight,

Gone are the late night escapades and the thrill of getting caught,

Gone are the trysts and rendezvous,

Gone are the lunch dates and stolen kisses,

Gone are the road trips and comedy shows and dinners,

Gone are the laughter and practicing Mandarin,

Gone are the gifts and compliments,

GoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGone

 

Dear John, don’t you think twenty’s too young to be played with?

That despite your noble intentions, you hurt me still?

And though to you, all we ever were was wrong,

I still loved you?

That though I wish you well, you know that deep down I’m lying

Dear John, it’s too late now – you’re

 

GoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGoneGone

 

 

You know, I loved your hands best

 

 

. 

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