You wake up each morning,
finding yourself getting on with life,
slaving it to the noble pursuits society sets necessary to sustain your life
Who would have known,
not even yourself,
that it was engraved deeper into your heart each time you push it to the back of your head
They told you to let it go;
to let me go.
You cannot simply will you heart to stop beating,
no matter how long you hold your breath for, it won't be forever;
You could only stop missing me entirely,
if you stopped becoming yourself.
I prayed incessantly at the back of my head,
my heart was like yours.
Days became weeks, weeks became months
In all familiarity,
paths crossed, eyes met
our hearts moved,
you realised you didn't totally rid your old self;
you didn't stop becoming yourself.
All these passed times you had been living in your shell of lies and denial
To be alive, isn't noble pursuits we are slaving for,
its staying alive for beauty, poetry, love, romance.
So, this time round I prayed,
I prayed for the old you to consume you once again