My heart doesn't stop just because she hates me
though as time passes things I felt begin to fade
like an old photograph slowly turning to yellow,
while I still linger over it, appreciate the image
some of what was so vivid back then I can't get back
I am the man in the rear view mirror that grows smaller
as she drives away; I still see her; she gets smaller, too.
Her gaze reflected in the silvery surface looking back,
then only her hair or face, and finally only her car,
as vague as a mirage, the further she goes, the less I
recall,
even when the ache I feel remains as intense,
Love does not vanish, it lingers, even when it cannot
be reinvigorated, or painted again as vividly as it once was,
I am forced to paiint it as I wish it had been,
rather than what it has become; making it all the worse
for my wanting something that is not there,
never even here, just the smear of a photograph
I keep wrapped up in my head
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