I catch myself wondering from time to time,
is the you I miss so much the you that is still under all of that junk?
Is that you still a mess of mischievous but beautifully honest eyes,
eyes that promised we’d always be in touch?
Is the you that still pulls on my heart strings,
the you that the tears that washed my face in mass were for?
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Is that you?
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