I remember studying
in my room, just reading,
and shutting the book,
looking up, and missing you, missing you,
and reading the notes again.
There’s no freedom in it or in fear: my heart’s not mine.
I remember studying
in my room, just reading,
and shutting the book,
looking up, and missing you, missing you,
and reading the notes again.
There’s no freedom in it or in fear: my heart’s not mine.

Once, I was loved, supremely with every fiber of someone’s being. He was the risk I'd always take. He just never knew how to hold my heart.
Yet, he's my favorite thought.

November 24, 2010