Can I tell you a secret?
I know. I knew it all along.
This isn’t just about the silence or the cold void that sits between us. I knew it the moment I saw you happy. On how your days brighten up effortlessly. I knew it because I was once the reason for them too. But those days are now long gone and I am left with a scissor to cut the string.
So, please, wait a little as I gather my guts. Or better yet, just tell me and leave so I won’t have to do so. For I have been too good at being left behind but never at leaving.
Do you ever write poems and choose to keep them in your notes because you thought they’re unfinished? I have heaps in mine. Looking at them now, I feel nostalgic. Some still stings while others brings out a laugh. This one’s from last year. A prose I wrote as I was playing Sam Smith’s Too Good At Goodbyes on the piano.
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