New year

It seems like you still plan to be part of my life in 2016.

What will the new year have in store for us? Is it possible we write it differently this time?

Things left unsaid

You don't know how much words I have saved in drafts that I want to send you.

To tell you off. To tell you how much you've hurt me. To tell you to stop wasting my time.

Ambiguity

Once again, your messages are laced with ambiguity designed to draw me in. 

Or at least my makeup’s weakness is its magnetic pull.

You miss me, you said.

Your message sent the day after which I only got today.

You miss me, you said. You confuse me, you did.

All things end

Thoughts are on closing out the projects we were supposed to be doing together.  

Thinking of how to go about doing all of it without the drama. 

Hung on hope

I had hoped you’d remember.

Up to the last minute, I’d held on to the hope that I’d hear from you.

Was it just me?

Whenever I chance on remembering how much of how you treated me hurt -- an onslaught of questions would come rushing in pursuit.

I’d wonder if you’ve ever had a single honest relationship. Or it was just me.

Would I write for you?

What if you can read my thoughts?

What if you stumble upon the words I’ve written?