One Last Time

ONE LAST TIME

 

I love him still.

Don’t I?

There, I have said it.

Written it with my own hand.

Thought it out loud.

Or, is it a remnant of my programming?

And don’t forget my sick mind.

All these complex feelings,

Buried for so very long.

Resurfacing when I am most vulnerable.

Shamed, not jealous should I be.

Normalcy beckons from afar,

But I still need closure.

I need to talk with him one last time.

Face

to

face,

before

it

is

too

late . . .