Sad. If you would go away and say ‘he wrote me poetry’. Only. If you would not then open the doors of your heart and mind to that experience.
I do not write to impress. But to express. There is no way to overcome vulnerability but to run away or surrender.
Nobody wants to be hurt. So we hide behind a practiced pretense. some end up believing it their true self. Love is a miracle.
I remember you. And all my feelings too. Even when I should not. It hurts when I smile when I should cry. You look so happy without me.