A Half Wilted Heart

Holding his hand was the last memory of his. Oh, how I long to miss his kiss. Then tear drops floats in the air, why funny little clouds wants to glare. Except when I yelled and cursed through the plains. The only last thing he said was my name. Try, and try, and try again. For this is a new life waiting to begin. Seasons change and leaves falls. Love birds always love to call. This pain I bare is not a thing to brag. So I avoid the happy romantic stories and try not to gag. My lipstick stain is upon every a letter I write. I try to hold back every hatred with all of my might. More mad at myself than anyone else. That I could of have stop this when I had a chance. But I never took a glance. So I write Dear John letters to him above, hoping that he gets them and reads it with love. For it was my mistake that he's there and not here. I meant it for me, on this I swear. Oh, forgive me my dearest friend, because I didn't want this to end.