One January Day

There on the floor I lie.

Looking beyond the texture of my ceiling.

Instantly the hairs on my arm stood,

inspiring me to viciously dig for my book.

Writing down all these letters of words colliding in my head

These words are as follows:

          My goodness I have to write this down and forget it forever.

          All I've got to say is, it's too late. And now I have to live not

          knowing what could've been between us.

          I really feel bad for us, I'm sorry.  

 

A year later, these words mean nothing.

Because I now live knowing what we have.