Ode to HearacheA Poem by Amy Beth Storey
Well tell me what are you doing tonight?
I'm a little loney and he's not by my side I think I might call, but I'm too scared to yell again
You were so charming and its been to long
I don't know if you even miss me now I'm gone
Somedays I wonder if you ever really even loved me at all
You never called, you never appologized at all
Did you miss me? Those late nights up alone
That was when you used to talk the most
Oh, do you remember?
I remember the color of your walls,
The touch of your hand to my cheek
I remember the words that you spoke
The way you looked at me
And the sparkle in your eye, did you fake it all?
Fake it all for me?
I don't want to say it, but god how I miss you
You were once my everything
And I know you left for a reason,
I know you weren't the one for me
But its funny how I still have a part of you in my heart
And how you still have a part of my heart for you
I should hate you, but I respect you more than anything
Or anyone
And they all laugh at the way I talk about you
Like you were wonderful and perfect and the man of my dreams
Maybe I've just forgotten the pain you left me with
Maybe I forgot the cons of the relationship
Oh have you forgotten?
I remember the color of your walls,
The touch of your hand to my cheek
I remember the words that you spoke
The way you looked at me
And the sparkle in your eye, did you fake it all?
Fake it all for me?
Maybe I should be flattered
That you tried your hardest to love me
But you tried your hardest to break me too
And I know, you were never the one for me
You will never be quite what I need
I have moved on from you
But you will always have that tip of my heart
For being my first love
I remember the color of your walls,
The touch of your hand to my cheek
I remember the words that you spoke
The way you looked at me
And the sparkle in your eye, did you fake it all?
Fake it all for me?
© 2008 Amy Beth Storey |
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Added on February 21, 2008 AuthorAmy Beth StoreyAir Force Base, SDAboutFor [Ashlyn] was born of a line of men who used their leisure for thinking, not doing, for spinning brightly colored dreams that had in them no touch of reality. He moved in an inner world that was m.. more..Writing
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