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To be stuck in the past
Now after all these days,
I've realized that you're the one that got away.
My muse of the previous year,
and a constant whisper in my ear.

Now that you're gone I don't write as much,
my inspiration is only a step out of touch.

I miss those blue eyes,
and those lovestruck goodbyes,
I yearn to hear you sing again,
knowing that I can finally sing along without strain.

We could sing love songs
and strum our guitars
as we sneak glances at eachother
and our eyes fill with stars

I could carry on making up scenarios that I know had never happened,
creating fake memories, refusing to be enlightened.

I'll rewatch those videos of you singing,
clinging on to what I still remember,
with a foolish optimism,
believing we'll meet again.


© Taylor