To Love You Like I Used To.

Friday night in my room, among the messes I am trying to make a poem

Sitting here alone is something I am used to doing since you’re gone

Even though sometimes I wish you were here and shared your funny laughs

I wish I could reach you but I promised myself not to

I have your photo I stole a few months ago

And I am looking at it desperately

All of sudden you remind me to all silly fights we had

The “sleep tight” I used to say

The ringtone on my WhatsApp which I knew it must be you

I wish I could stroke your hair, just the way I did when you fell asleep next to me

It was the best feeling when you let me stroke it gently

Once you asked me to go to where you are now

But I was too upset to love you like I used to.

Courtesy: c2.staticflickr.com