Always In My thoughts.

I could hear the sound of waves through your eyes
We could get lost in the woods and not complain about it.
I'd bore you with my interests.
We'd both love to hate everyone else.

I would try to go out and fail at it but that's ok because we'd be together.
I'll complain about you wanting to go to that party because I can't go and although I could, I wouldn't feel like going.
But I'd go anyways.
And we'd fuck afterwards, because you looked nice in that dress.

We kissed until we lost the taste of our lips. Not even figuratively, completely literally.
We talked. Everyday.
We would talk about philosophy. Or art. Or how I hate those fucking hand dryers in bathrooms. Or how your left eyebrow is slightly thicker than your right one.
We would talk about all of that.
Or anything.

You loved my taste in music.
I loved your immaculate passion.

But I got depressed,
and you got psychotic.
And we fucked up.
We fucked it all up.

But now I'm fine,
I'm happy now.
I don't hate everyone else that much.
I do care if someone dies now, remember?

But I'm too far away from you.
And you probably don't think about me anymore.
So I'll just sit here waiting and wishing I can soon find someone like you or simply forget about everything we ever did.
But I know I won't.
And that's ok.

I probably still love you.
But maybe in a whole different way.
I don't think I ever stopped doing it.
I'm not the same. We're not the same.

So if you ever read this and I know you won't.
could you
please
come home?